Hi this is cheshireGrin and sophini. We have collaborated to bring you this fic. Chapter two is slightly different, but don't be put off because she hasn't met Tom yet. There's a reason behind everything! Disclaimer is in chapter one. Thanks for reading and for all who reviewed :-D
Chapter 2- Of breakfast and breakdowns
"Miss Westron?" A worried voice asked, "Can you hear me, Miss Westron?"
Feeling confused, Hermione slowly opened her eyes to see a 20 year old woman with mouse brown hair, typed back into a bun, hovering over her, looking extremely anxious.
Who the hell was Miss Westron?
"Oh! You're awake!" The woman sighed, "Are you feeling alright, dear?"
"Umm, yeah..." Hermione frowned, pulling herself up into a sitting position and looking around her. She was in a fancily decorated room, all marble and mahogany wood. She was sitting on a bed with green bed sheets facing a stone fireplace.
"Oh, you shouldn't get up just yet, my dear!" The woman cooed, "The healing charms Mr Malfoy used on you haven't fully worked yet, just lie there until I check them."
Ah, that's why she was feeling better. But why would a Malfoy heal her?
"Sorry, who are you?" Hermione scowled, looking around her again.
"Why I'm the house keeper here at Malfoy Manor!" The woman smiled kindly at Hermione's confused expression before continuing, "Ah yes dear. I forgot you'd be a bit confused... Let me welcome you to Malfoy Manor, home of the noble Malfoy family. Has been for generations, Miss Westron!"
But wait... The Malfoys didn't have a house keeper. They had house elves. Unless they'd hired someone to keep the house elves in line... But that didn't make sense either!
"Why do you keep calling me that?" Hermione asked.
"Calling you what, dear?"
"... Miss Westron."
"Ah... You must be disorientated after the accident... It's your name! Such tragic things have happened to you these last few weeks, Miss Westron. I could hardly bare to hear them! First you and your parents being attacked by Mudbloods, and then your parents being killed by them! But don't you worry now, you'll be looked after here. The Malfoy's are purebloods too, you see and like to look after their own kind. And don't worry about your curse scars, Mr Malfoy got them all cleared up for you," The woman explained, smiling as if she had explained everything even though it was just confusing Hermione even more.
"How... How do you know all this? Why am I here?" Hermione wailed.
"Well... as for your second question, we don't exactly know... You appeared last night in the sitting room- we don't know how you broke he wards- in a terrible state! Blood was seeping out of you and you were out cold. We found everything out from the papers you had in your hands... You had your birth certificate and a newspaper, announcing your parents death and that the Mudbloods where searching for you in your homeland!" The woman continued, "Is it true you came from Durmstrang?"
"...I -" Hermione started.
"Hanita! Stop questioning the girl and bring her downstairs!" A voice boomed.
"Ah, sorry, Mr Malfoy," Hanita grimaced.
She did not talk to Hermione again and simply lead her to a bathroom that joined onto the room she had been staying in and striped and washed her, despite Hermione's protests.
She was dressed in a blouse, a skirt and a pair of heels before being lead back to the bedroom where Hanita started to brutally attack Hermione's matt of brunette hair with a hairbrush.
When Hanita was finally satisfied with Hermione's appearance she stood and sighed before taking a wand and some papers out of the pocket on the front of the white apron she was wearing and handed them to Hermione.
"Your wand and papers, Miss Westron," Hanita said quietly, "I will be back momentarily."
With that, Hanita left the room, leaving Hermione to her own devices.
She immediately opened the papers and looked at the wand.
It was not her wand, despite what Hanita had said... It was Bellatrix's wand...
Oh shit... The thought ran through her head as she looked down at the papers.
First, her "birth certificate."
Name: Hermione Westron
Date of Birth: September 19th, 1926
Place of Birth: Oslo, Norway
She flicked to the newspaper.
The date to be precise...
16th January 1943
Hermione sank onto the bed and threw the papers away from her.
What the bloody hell had happened?
It was then a thought came back to Hermione.
"Dobby is sorry, Miss Hermione, but this is supposed to happen."
Dobby.
She practically snarled the name in her head. What had that elf done to her? How was sending her over 50 years into the past keeping her safe?
"Miss Westron?" Hanita's high pitched voice broke into her thoughts.
"Umm... yes?" Hermione tried to say politely.
"Breakfast is about to be served," Hanita said, "Mr Malfoy requests your presence.
"Y-yes, of course. May I have a moment?"
"Of course Miss Hermione," Hanita said kindly. She left, shutting the door behind her.
Hermione sat down on the bed, her head spinning. How could this happen? Hermione, being a logical girl, analyzed-or at lest tried to- the situation she was in.
1943? The ferret's grandfather was a teenager…wait! Born in 1926? That would make her 17…oh Merlin help her…
Ok, Hermione thought, Mr Malfoy requests my to join him for breakfast. He expects a pureblood, not a hysterical teenage girl babbling about the future. Hermione would put her acting skills to use, she would be the surviving heir of the Westron family, and secretly be investigating her appearance 50 years in the past. There would be time for crying later….
Where would she stay? What would she say to Malfoy? Thank goodness she dated Victor Krum in fourth year, otherwise she would be at a complete loss about Durmstrang…..
Hermione walked into the adjoining bathroom and freshened her appearance. It was impolite to keep the people who had taken you in and healed you waiting….
With a fake smile plastered on her face, Hermione exited her room and made her way to were she would be dining.
Hermione and Hanita spent what felt like hours trekking down spiral staircases and long corridors. Along the walls were portraits of witches and wizards, all blonde and sneering. When they reached the entrance hall, however, Hermione froze.
Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.
Hermione gazed at the spot where she had been tortured, where she had been treated as if she were a floberworm, worse actually….
"Miss Westron…?" Hanita's voice cut through Hermione's thoughts once again. Hanita followed Hermione's gaze.
"Ah, yes. That was were the House Elves found you, gave us all a shock…" At Hermione's expression Hanita trailed off, before continuing their walk. At long last, the pair reached the Dining Room.
With a polite knock at the door, Hanita stuck her head inside. "Miss Westron is ready now, sir."
"Ah, yes. Bring her in," A voice replied.
Hanita opened the door and ushered Hermione inside without another word left her standing face to face with what looked like an exact replica of Lucius Malfoy.
"Miss Westron, I am glad to see you are well." The Lucius replica smiled kindly-Malfoy's could smile?-before taking her by the arm and leading her to the table, "I am Mr Brutus Lucius Malfoy, but please, call me Brutus."
Hermione replied as politely as she could manage "Ah... Thank you Brutus. I don't know how I can thank you for your care, I-"
"My Dear, I do admit, your appearance startled me, but was I to let you bleed out. What sort of Gentleman would a be then?"
Normal, as far as her previous dealings with the Malfoy family had led her to believe…
"Hanita, please inform Abraxas and his friends that they are being extremely rude! Leaving a lady standing like this….." Brutus scowled.
"Of course, sir," Hanita replied.
She exited and soon a crowd of young men entered the dining room in a noisy fashion and startling Hermione. Why so many?
It never ended, did it?
Each came forward to her, bowed and kissed her hand as if she was a queen, each introducing themselves in turn.
First came a 17 year old looking boy who looked like a better looking version of Draco Malfoy.
"Miss Westron," The boy grinned, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Abraxas Malfoy... You gave us quite a shock last night..."
"I apologize, Abraxas, but I didn't exactly plan it out..." Hermione said shakily. This was the man who would spawn Lucius Malfoy….He didn't look it….Hermione would even dare to say he was quite cute.
"Ah, well it matters not... I trust you had a good sleep last night?"
"To be honest, I can't say for sure," Hermione grimaced, "After being kidnapped... I can't really remember anything..."
"Yes, it must have been awful, especially you being a girl and all-" Abraxas started, seemingly sympathetic.
"….Excuse me?"
"I just said, because you're a young woman... It must have been worse for you. I mean, usually wizards take their troubles out on men, women being weaker you see. What happened to you is a disgrace," Abraxas explained, believing every word he said.
"Pah! Well look at other men that have been tortured, David Myers! Mike Barnard! John Jones! All very memorable tortures and I seem to have come out better than any of them!" Hermione spat. So this is where the famous Malfoy arrogance came from…
"Yes but then they were Mudbloods," Abraxas smirked, as if that explained it.
Hermione clenched her fists to stop herself from making a snide remark but was thankfully relieved of any more idiotic comments from Abraxas.
"Stop hogging her, Abraxas! We do want to eat breakfast soon!" A voice laughed.
Abraxas was roughly taken out of the way and another two boys quickly replaced him. Hermione almost fainted with shock... Standing in front of her were two younger looking versions of Sirius Black, only one had shorter hair.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Westron," The shorter haired boy said , "My name is Orion Black. And this is Cygnus, my brother."
"Pleased to meet you," Hermione replied, pulling her hand back after both brothers had kissed it. Inside, Hermione was shaking. Her torturers father was standing in front of her, grinning! Hermione took a deep breath.
"You don't sound Norwegian."
"My family are British, we just lived there, although our name can be traced back to it's origins there." If Hermione remembered correctly.
More boys followed... Fomalhault Lestrange, Propus Avery, Izar Rosier, Augustus Rookwood, Merak Yaxley, Alcor Nott, Leonis Mulciber, Walden McNair, Orionis Selwyn and Hydrus Travers.
Wow, Purebloods didn't go halfway when naming children, did they? And every single one of them is-or will be- a death eater…Hermione thought as each came to her.
After everyone was finally acquainted, Hermione was lead to her seat, where Cygnus Black pulled it out for her. Everyone waited for her to sit before they did themselves.
When everyone was seated, food appeared on the table like Hermione had remembered it when at Hogwarts. Typical.
"Happy birthday, Abraxas," Brutus said, beaming down the table at his son, "Now that you've finally come of age we'll have to introduce you to your future wife."
"... Yes, father. I... can hardly wait," Abraxas frowned awkwardly, stabbing a sausage with his silver fork.
"Have you heard from Tom, Abraxas?" Fomalhault asked, taking a slice of toast and chewing on it inquisitively.
"Don't be stupid, Fomalhault!" Augustus snorted, "Of course he hasn't! Tom hasn't told anyone where he lives since first year and it's a waste of his time to be writing to idiots like Abraxas here!"
Abraxas glared at the table as his father chuckled.
"Do you remember that time when Merak got him an owl for Christmas?" Leonis laughed.
"How could we forget?" Merak snapped, "He cursed me into next month when I suggested he use it to contact us."
They were terribly…good natured for being Death Eaters…..Tom? Tom Riddle? Evil, murderous, psychopathic Tom Riddle who wanted her and her kind dead…
Brutus seemed to notice Hermione's expression and mistook it as frustration at being ostracized
.
"Now, now, boys," Brutus said, sighing back his laughter, "Stop talking about young Tom, you're excluding Miss Westron from the conversation."
"Please, call me Hermione," Hermione insisted.
"Ah, sorry, Hermione," Cygnus grinned, "I think you would like Tom though... He doesn't like Mudbloods either."
"And what makes you think I don't like Mudbloods, Mr Black?" Hermione snarled.
Keep your anger in check Hermione, cursing him will only cause problems….
"The obvious reason, of course... You were kidnapped and tortured by them, if anything you should hate them the most but then again, they are filthy creatures anyway..." Cygnus babbled on, "They disgrace the Wizarding race! I don't even see why they don't murder them at birth when they find out they have magic! It's not their magic anyway! Magic belongs in the Pureblood families and I believe that's where it
should stay. I for one - Are you alright, Hermione?"
He cut off there as Hermione started to shake with uncontrollable anger. For goodness sake! He was insulting her without even knowing it! That bigoted, inbred piece of-
"Yes," Hermione ground out, "I just... I just remember my attack..."
She hoped they mistook the quaver in her voice as anger at the "Mudbloods" and not them…
"Ah. I understand," Cygnus said, smiling kindly, "You shouldn't fear them, Hermione.
That's like letting them win."
Hermione didn't reply, instead choosing to ignore Cygnus who kept twittering on as Hermione cut her bacon with a little to much vigour, imagining that the bacon was actually Cygnus Black's face.
"So what was Durmstrang like?" Propus asked, cutting off Cygnus who was still making comments about Mudbloods.
"Well... It was cold," Hermione said blandly.
"What was it like being one of the only witches there?" Propus demanded, "I heard that there were only 22 in such a large school. Was it hard, keeping up with the work, apparently it's quite advanced…"
Hermione could barely contain her rage. No one insulted her gender and intelligence in the same day…
"No, actually," She snarled, "Women, where I come from, are as independent as wizards for your information! We can do everything that a wizard can do and more! And I assure you that my intelligence is unmatched!"
Much to her annoyance, Propus burst out laughing.
"Good one, Hermione!" He gasped when he had stopped laughing, "But what's it really like? I mean, I would hate it! I thank God every day that I'm not a woman... They are so weak and-"
"Look! I don't know much about your backward culture but where I come from, things are much, much different!" Hermione snarled.
Propus stopped laughing immediately and stared at her, shocked that she was serious, as most at the table were also.
An awkward silence followed that everyone seemed reluctant to break. It was Brutus that finally spoke.
"Hermione, have you any idea where you will stay. You are of age, yes?" Brutus continued at her nod. "I think it imprudent to involve the Ministry although, I'm starting to think it cannot be avoided. You're family homes were destroyed too, weren't they? I would like to extend my hospitality regarding your stay here at Malfoy Manor."
"Brutus, that is most kind but I couldn't possibly -" Hermione protested.
"No, no, I insist," Brutus interrupted, "I will make arrangements for you to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry so you shall start in February."
Hermione looked around the table, when the thought struck her.
"Shouldn't they be at school now?" Hermione frowned.
"Yes but... There were attacks at the school on…Muggleborns and the such…. A young wizard, Rubeus Hagrid is under investigation after the death of a Mudblood pupil but the school will be reopened in February as the school staff have assured everyone that the school is safe and that classes can continue as normal after a few more checks of the school, you'll see," Brutus reassured her, "You shall be escorted to Diagon Alley by Abraxas. Do not worry Hermione, we will look after you here."
Hermione did not know what to make of the situation, so she nodded.
"May I be excused?"
"Of course," Brutus nodded, "Dobby!"
A crack sounded and Hermione looked on in shock as the House Elf appeared, but not as the brave, sweet, free elf she knew, but as a meek, trembling servant.
"M-master called for Dobby?"
"Yes, take Miss Westron to her room." Brutus sneered down at the creature.
This was more like the Malfoy's she knew and hated..
"F-follow Dobby, Miss," Dobby squeaked. Hermione followed. When they had left the room, Hermione heard the conversation starting up again. Being curious, she listened and signalled for Dobby to wait.
"Strange girl.."
"She didn't seem upset about her parents…and being tortured!"
"Mulciber, you are an imbecile" She's obviously in shock…poor girl, she seemed so scared and confused-when you looked at her eyes…."
Hermione saw Dobby wringing his hands, as if he was nervous he would get caught….
She nodded at him. He seemed relieved at her silent request and Apparated them to her new room immediately. Hermione grabbed the elf by the dirty towel he was wearing.
"What did you do?" Hermione snarled at the terrified creature.
"Dobby does not understand! Please let Dobby g-go!" At Dobby's pleas, she let him down. She looked at him as he trembled, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.
"You didn't bring me here, did you?" Hermione said softly, still looking at him. Of course he didn't, he was half a centaury younger than the Dobby who did.
Hermione realized the hopelessness of the situation she was in. She sat down on the edge of the bed and cried. She knew Dobby was there and the poor creature was probably stricken, but she didn't care.
"Please, please leave me," Hermione choked out between her sobs. Dobby did so immediately.
When he was gone, Hermione let go. She through herself on the bed and screamed. She hit the pillows and everything else she could get her hands on, and the tears kept coming.
She was probably screwing up the timeline.
She ate breakfast with rapists and murderers.
She would have to lie to everyone she met, her very existence here was a lie.
She would have to stay here as her only way of escape knew nothing of who she was and would be forced to tell his Master as he couldn't keep secrets told by anyone not of Malfoy blood.
She would have to meet a teenage Voldemort…..probably more than meet if her new "friends" were any indication…
Hermione felt a wave of nausea sweep over her and she staggered to the bathroom. After she had vomited she looked in the mirror that was sitting above the basin. Her hair was wild, tears were running down her cheeks, her eyes were puffy and her skin was blotchy. She had also given herself a headache with all the crying she had-understandably-been doing.
Harry? Ron? Gods, what would they do without her? Did they miss her? What would they say if they could see her now?
Hermione walked back into the bedroom and stopped suddenly. All around her lay bits of pillows or parchment. The bed was a mess and, frankly so was the whole room.
Hermione reached for her wand in her pocket, but instead her fingers closed around old, unfamiliar wood.
Bellatrix's wand.
When she preformed the necessary spells to clean up, the wand felt strange and wrong. The spell also didn't work as well as it should've, producing mediocre results. That was enough to cause a fresh wave of tears as Hermione curled up on the bed, foreign wand in hand, and cried herself to sleep.