Chapter 1: The Ritual
For the hundredth time that night Hermione Granger asked herself why she had agreed to this ridiculous if not somewhat creepy tradition. Candles on the ground were lit all around her, encircling her perfectly. The grand, newly renovated room was dimly lit except for the people that each clutched a candle of their own, illuminating their face almost solemnly. Everybody in the room was staring at her with a mixture of expectation and excitement but some, such as her ex boyfriend stared at her with pity, dread and a glimmer of hope. All her loved ones were there; Harry, Ginny, Molly and Arthur Weasley, the twins, Ron, Luna, Neville and even Bill and Fleur had visited in order to witness what was about to happen to her. After the war when Hermione had failed to retrieve her parents' memories, Molly and Arthur had unofficially 'adopted' her. She was in all ways considered family and they treated her as such. As lovely as it had all been, being considered a Weasley daughter entailed a lot more than she had bargained for. The Weasleys, even though they didn't stand for the beliefs of most pureblood houses, were still just that, purebloods. And for all that they claimed to be much more progressive then the other houses, even they held on to some traditions. Which is why Hermione stood in the middle of a room with runes drawn all over her arms, neck, and face and wearing a ridiculously heavy old school dress that looked suspiciously a lot like a wedding dress.
The corset was making it difficult for her to breath and the added anxious looks of her family didn't do much to help this fact. Never in a million years did she think she would spend her nineteenth birthday this way. Yet it also in a strange way made a lot of sense as life did tend to work out funny when it came to Hermione. She tries to calm herself by reminding herself that in most cases the ritual didn't even work. She would probably perform the last steps of the ritual and after a couple of anxious moments nothing would happen and she could go on with her merry life, much to the disappointment of some people. She knew for a fact that Molly Weasley hoped that this evening would prove what she so desperately and wholeheartedly believed; she and Ron were meant to be together.
Except Hermione knew that they didn't. they were too different and their interests were not even in close proximity of each other. What she had finally admitted to herself as well and which she would never admit out loud, was that Ron was simply not … stimulating enough when it came to her mind and her intelligence. When she thought about it she hated the thought at first as it made her appear exactly the snob Ron had always said she was. But it was a fact that Hermione couldn't 'unrealise'. The physical attraction was there, even if it was more from Ron's side then from hers but she knew that that too would eventually fade away with age and she realized that she would never end up happy long-term if she would stay with Ron.
Her thoughts were brought back to the present as Molly softly spoke. ''it is time dear.'' She breathed out unsteadily but nodded, the jewels in her hair making her head feel heavy. She picked up the elegantly carved knife that reflected the lights of the candles around her. Slowly she brought the knife to the inside of her other hand, her arm shaking embarrassingly. She let out a hiss of pain as the knife broke the skin and ruby red blood appeared. Folding her hand in a fist she watched as three drops hit the floor. It made contact with the wood with a hissing sound that you would expect to hear of a drop of water that landed on a hot surface. It fizzled and Hermione was surprised to see even slight smoke rising up. Nonetheless the blood hadn't disappeared and one began to travel making a crinkling river of red across the floor. She felt her heart drop as she stared in morbid fascination when the red liquid began to write a name. It had worked, even before she saw the name that was written she knew that whatever name would appear it would change her life drastically. She ignored the surprised and excited whispers of the other occupants of the room, her eyes glued to the red writing on the floor. She had no doubt that they were surprised it had even worked at all. But as the red stream finally stopped, finishing the last letter of the name with a flick the room was once again filled with gasps but this time they were of the pitying kind. There, right on the floor, a few steps removed from her was a name. It stared at her, almost mockingly and she felt her eyes fill up with tears.
Sirius black
''I'm so sorry dear. This was a terrible idea.'' Molly tried to sooth her and reach out an arm to help her out of the circle of fire. Normally Hermione would have reassured her that it wasn't her fault but she couldn't help the bitterness and anger and above all overwhelming sadness that seemed to well up in her chest. Tears dripped of her face no doubt ruining the makeup that had been put there only moments before by Fleur and Ginny. She looked up and sobbed pathetically but it helped her calm down when she saw Molly looking just as distressed and sad as she was and she knew that she felt truly sorry and at least that was something.
Just as she lifted her heavy skirts, ready to fall into her surrogate mother's arms, Ginny shouted pointing her finger frantically near the hem of her dress. ''No wait, look!'' Everyone, including Hermione herself, stared as one drop of red that she had forgotten about started to begin on a journey forming a line much like before but instead of going left it went right. ''It can't be that isn't possible.'' Molly turned to look at her husband questioningly who in turn looked as helpless as she felt.
Hermione's body was stiff with tension and tears continued to silently drop of her face. She felt like she was going to faint from the suffocating warmth that seemed to cocoon around her. The fire was slowly but surely creating a thin layer of sweat on her forehead not to mention the heavy dress that she seemed to loath more by the second.
Molly, however odd she found the situation, also was strangely hopeful when she saw a second branch start to form. Hermione didn't deserve to go through her life alone and she hoped that the second name could ensure that she didn't, even if it wasn't Ron, like she hoped it would be. But alas as also the second name began to take form, molly felt like a heavy weight was suddenly crushing her and she felt extremely guilty. Without her Hermione would have never known that her soul mate or should she say soulmates were dead and she had probably married some other nice fellow.
Meanwhile Hermione was swaying unsteadily and she didn't even try to hide the sobs that wracked her body. The second name, so elegantly looking yet so devastating in its meaning appeared to her right.
Remus Lupin
She stared helplessly as the final drop of blood began to make a third branch, this time traveling in a crinkling line until it stopped in the blank space in the middle of the other two names. ''No, no more.'' She shook her head violently and felt curls springing lose from the tight bun on her head. She had never experienced such sadness and rage before, it was overwhelming; the feeling of drowning.
Molly and the rest of the family moved forward as one at the sound of her broken voice but knew that they couldn't do anything to help. Under no circumstances must the ritual be interrupted as there were grave consequences. Besides, the name that would reveal itself to her would be the truth and would always be connected to her in a way.
Shock, that was the only time that registered in her mind when the third name glistened in ruby red on the floor. ''Oh my.'' Molly muttered, her voice as disbelieving as Hermione felt. ''Harry!'' Hermione looked up fast enough to catch a glimpse of his robes disappearing through the door and the sound of the door slamming was deafening in the silent room. The candles went out, their damage done and without hearing the warnings and calls of her family she picked up her heavy skirts and bolted where Harry had disappeared to.
Still in shock the weasel family stared at the name that had now become barely eligible as Hermione had smudged it with the hem of her dress.
James potter