~A/N> So, I've started working on my book and as I was writing it I could see different ways to tie it into
the Harry Potter universe. Loving AU stories as I do, I thought I'd write a H/Hr version at the same time as
working on my original story. This first chapter is all about Hermione, but Harry will make an appearance in the next
chapter. This story is going to be very different from the others in the sense that Hermione is almost as powerful as
Harry is in this story, but in a much different way. I hope you'll give it a chance, it's become my favorite
story so far. As of right now I'm not sure how many chapters long it's going to be, but I can tell you it's
going to be full of ups and downs, my own little sense of humor (which some say is a bit odd at times), and of course a
romance that blossoms from the depths of sadness, despair, and a shared connection that was up until now unknown.
Please keep in mind, alternate universe stories most of the time (at least mine anyway) hardly ever follow the books so
there will be a lot of differences between the world JKR has created and the world I've created in this story,
which still has some of her elements in it. I hope you enjoy it, and if it seems that my readers like it, the next
chapter will be out by Friday at the latest :)
Why is it that life can never just be easy?
She looked around the room full of mourners and felt her head throb as another wave of grief washed over her. Being one of few children in the room (ten years old as of a month ago), she sat in a chair near the front by herself as her Mom and Dad said hello and accepted condolences from family and friends. Wishing that her best friend Hannah could have been there with her, but understanding why her Mom didn't want her to be, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands as they became blurry with tears again.
"Hermione, are you okay?" her Mom, Jane, asked as she kneeled down in front of her only daughter and caressed her cheek with her hand.
"I'm okay momma," Hermione replied and then sniffled. "I'm just sleepy, and I don't want to be here anymore."
"I know honey," Jane said sympathetically as she looked at her daughter through watery eyes. "I don't want to be here either. As soon as we're done, how about we go home, eat some chocolate peanut butter ice cream, and then lay in my bed to take a nap?"
"Can I watch the telly in your room until I fall asleep?" Hermione asked. "I don't like the quiet anymore."
"Sure you can," Jane answered with a hint of a smile, knowing exactly what her daughter meant. Their house had seemed so uncomfortably quiet lately, all of them had just been walking around like robots, following a daily routine just to make it to the next. Looking toward her husband, Devin, she saw that he was watching the two of them and he motioned for her to join him once more. "I'll be back in a little while," Jane said, running her hand lovingly over her daughter's beautiful mousy-brown hair before standing up. "I'll be right over there with your dad if you need me, and we'll leave as soon as possible, okay?"
Hermione shook her head yes and watched as her mom walked away. As her parents whispered to one another and looked back toward her, someone sat in the chair next to her and said, "I've always hated funerals. They are always so sad and boring, and I've never understood why everyone always wears black. It's such a depressing color." Smiling down at Hermione she said, "When I die I want my death to be celebrated, not mourned. Instead of a funeral, I want a party where all my friends can come and remember all the fun we had together and what a great, long life I lived."
Looking up at the woman sitting next to her, Hermione looked at her in disbelief and said, "Well it's a little late for that now Grandma, you should have told Mum that when you were still alive and we wouldn't all be sitting here bored and sad right now."
~*~
After her little 'episode' as her father had called it, he had grabbed her hand and led her out of the church and into the waiting limousine that was parked out front. "What did you think you were doing in there?" Devin asked with a hint of anger in his voice.
"I was talking to Grandma", Hermione replied, looking at her father like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"That's impossible," he growled, "because she's dead."
"Devin!" Jane exclaimed, shocked. "We are all very well aware that my Mother has passed on, you needn't be so forthright about it!"
"Our daughter just announced to a church full of people that she was talking to her deceased Grandmother!" her father retorted angrily. "Some of those people were associates...how am I supposed to explain this?"
"But I did see her," Hermione interjected. "She sat down next to me and said that she didn't want to be mourned when she died, she wanted everyone to celebrate her life instead. That's why I told her it was a little too late for that. I don't think she knew she was dead."
Her parents stared at each other silently and then her dad turned to stare out the window at the passing scenery as her mum looked down at her concerned. "You couldn't have seen her luv, she's dead....she's never coming back and there's no way you could have seen her."
"But I did!" Hermione replied adamantly. "Why won't you believe me?"
"Because no one can see dead people!" her dad replied, looking at her angrily. "Now that is the end of the discussion. I don't ever want to hear you mention this little event again."
And with that, Hermione's pre-teen and teenage years started out on a very bad note.
~*~
After her little 'episode' as her father called it, in church with her Grandma, Hermione learned not to say anything about strange things she would see here and there. For example, she could walk down the street and see strange mists next to or following certain people, or black mists surrounding others. She never understood what it meant, but she knew that if she were to ask her Dad he'd be angry with her. So one day, a week after her eighteenth birthday, she finally went to her Mum and asked her about it.
Sighing heavily, her Mum closed the bedroom door and sat down next to her on the bed. "I guess I should have told you this after the event with your Grandma occurred, or even before that when she was alive and encouraging me to tell you," she said. Taking a deep breath she said, "Hermione, you come from a long line of what are called Soul Guardians." At her daughter's surprised and quizzical look she explained, "No one on my side of the family knows how far back it goes, but certain generations of females in my family are...special. We have a...gift...to help people when no one else can. Each one of us has a different way of finding out when we're supposed to help someone, like when your Grandma was supposed to help someone they'd have a light blue glow about them and she'd hear a humming in her ears. Some of us are telepathic, some are clairsentient which means you can sense or feel what a spirit is feeling, while others can see and communicate with Spirit Guides and Guardian Angels, helping to protect their charges. I was only born with empathic ability, so I could pick up on other's emotions and know they needed help, but it'll probably take a few more years until you discover exactly what skills or powers have passed down to you."
"I have to admit, I have been noticing some strange things like coloured mists around people on the street, and then there was seeing Grandma, but that's been about it so far." Sitting quietly for a moment, Hermione asked, "This sounds like something that would be a blessing, so why does Dad seem so uneasy about it all?"
"Because he's a non-believer," Jane replied sadly. "I admitted to him that I was empathic while we were dating and he said that if we were ever to marry that I would have to give up using my ability. I loved him so much that I actually agreed to stop using my ability. Then, after we had you and you started to exhibit little signs of having some of the families gifts, he made me swear not to help you develop them. He said that you were to be raised like every other normal little girl. He'd rather pretend that we're a normal family and that there's nothing special about you and I. I can't tell you how much I regret giving up my ability for him."
"So then Grandma...?"
"She was clairsentient and helped with soul restoration," her Mom replied. At her daughter's confused look, she made her way quickly to her bedside stand and pulled a notebook out of the drawer. Handing it to her she said, "Put this under your shirt when you go to your room, and hide it somewhere that your Dad can't find it. It's a documented history of my families abilities and it goes as far back as 1807. It also mentions that these gifts only occur in the females of our lineage. Read that and you'll know everything about where you come from and what powers my side of the family possessed."
"Thank you mum," Hermione replied, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Hopefully this will give me answers about a few of the strange things that have been happening lately."
Her mum hesitated for only a moment, long enough for Hermione to see a look of indecision pass over her face, and when she looked Hermione in the eyes she said, "There's something else you should know..."
Hermione stood watching her as Jane just stared back at her daughter, her chest tight over whether she should tell her. If the wrong people ever found out just how powerful her daughter really was, it could put her life in danger. But if Hermione knew, she could possibly prepare herself if that time ever came. Walking up to the door of the bedroom she shared with her husband, the man she promised never to tell their daughter what she was about to tell her, she locked it as quietly as possible and made her way over to her closet. Bending down, she rummaged among the things on the floor and produced a small blue shoe box. Standing up, she made her way back to Hermione and held the box out to her without saying a word.
Taking the box, Hermione took the lid off and saw about seven envelopes sitting inside, seemingly unopened, save one. Picking one up she looked at the wax seal on the back of the envelope and read out loud, "Hogwarts?" Then seeing more writing underneath a crest with four sections on it and a big 'H' in the middle she read, "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus." Thinking back to her Latin class that she took last year she slowly translated, "Never tickle a sleeping dragon?"
"It's from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," her mum replied. "It seems that along with being a Soul Guardian, you're the first Witch ever on my side, the Duvall side of the family, as well."
"I'm a Witch? And a Soul Guardian?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded as she sank down onto her mum's bed, trying to take it all in. With some of her thoughts clearing a bit, she picked up the one envelope that was open and took the letter out to read. Skimming over the words she said, "So I could've been going to this school since I was eleven, instead of suffering through that horrid school I had to attend up until two years ago, where they tormented and embarrassed me everyday because I never seemed to fit in?"
"Yes," her mum replied sounding sad and distressed. "I tried to talk your father into letting you go, but just as he refused to acknowledge our gifts, he refused to believe that any daughter of his could be an honest-to-goodness witch. He forbade me to ever show you those letters and said to never speak of it again. But even though there's never been a response, a letter arrives for you every year around the first of August."
"I can't believe this," Hermione said quietly. All of this new information was so overwhelming and the anger she was feeling toward her father was growing by the second. The way he had treated her at her Grandma's funeral, the way he told her mum never to mention her special gifts and family history as if they were an abomination, making sure she didn't know she was a witch. Suddenly, one of her mum's crystal figurines that sat on the bedside stand shattered, sending bits of crystal flying everywhere. Jane and Hermione stared in disbelief at where the figuring had been and Hermione turned to her mum and asked, "D-Did I do that?"
"I think you did," her mum said softly. Stilling her daughter's hand as she tried to clean up some of the mess, Jane knelt down in front of her and said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner honey. It wasn't right of me to keep all of this from you...it's what makes you who you are. You've always been gifted and intelligent, but you're special in an altogether different way."
"I don't blame you mum," she replied. "I blame dad. It's like he thinks I'm a freak or something...like he's ashamed of me."
"No, he just doesn't understand it, not growing up around it like I did," her mum said adamantly. "He loves you more than anything in the world."
Hermione looked down at her with tears shining in her eyes and said, "If that were true, he wouldn't have kept this from me, and forced you to do the same. He would have accepted us for who we are."
Jane watched sadly as Hermione got up and walked toward the door with her shoulders slumped and head hung low. Wishing she knew what to say, she tried to tap into her empathic powers and found she couldn't even get a trace of what her daughter was feeling. Saddened by how easily she had given up her own gift she started to say, "Hermione..."
"Mum, not to be disrespectful, but I just need to go to my room and think for a while," Hermione interrupted. "Maybe even read some of the notebook and learn about a family history I never knew I had."
Watching as Hermione put the notebook under her shirt before walking out and pulling the door shut behind her, Jane Granger sat down in the same spot Hermione had just been sitting and cried, mourning for what was lost, and for what could have been.
~*~
Hermione sat in her room that night, reading through the notebook her mum had given her, learning of Aunts, Great Grandma's and her Grandma that had gifts such as empathy, telepathy, clairsentience, clairaudience, precognition, intuition, soul rejuvenation...the list just went on and on. She couldn't help but wonder just which of these gifts would manifest themselves within her as she grew older. A feeling of wonder started to slowly replace the fury she had felt at her father's betrayal, but that hurt would never be gone completely. She felt as if her Dad saw her as flawed, as a daughter that he could never be truly proud of because she was like her mother's side of the family. Feeling her eyes droop as she tried to continue reading about her great-great-great Aunt Emily, her sleepiness won out in the end and she fell asleep where she lay fully clothed on her bed, the notebook falling to rest on her chest.
An undeterminable amount of time later, she was awakened by her mother screaming and she bolted from her bed to her door, opening it to see chaos in the hallway. A man had just run in the direction of her parent's bedroom with what looked to be a piece of wood in his hand and she ran after him, stopping dead in her tracks as he stopped in the doorway. She could see her mum's face from where she stood, the sheer look of terror that was there, and the strange man pointed the piece of wood at her mum and yelled, "Avada Kedavra!" She stared in horror as a green jet of light hurled toward her mum and when it struck her she fell lifelessly to the bed where her dad already lay unmoving. As she stared at her body, she watched as a ghostlike image of her mum rose out of her body and looked right at her. Mouthing the words, "I love you. I'm sorry." she evaporated into thin air, leaving Hermione alone with this stranger that seemed to have just killed her parents.
In shock after what she had just witnessed, she was unable to move when the man turned around and smiled wickedly as his gaze landed on her. "Well, well, looks like this is going to be easier than I thought."
Frozen in fear, Hermione watched as he started to raise the stick up to her chest when suddenly a jet of red light shot by her and struck the man in the chest, causing him to immediately collapse onto the floor. As a hand came to rest on her shoulder, Hermoine's fight or flight instinct kicked in and she turned around and started swinging as hard as she could, landing a few good punches here and there. When the person wrapped their arms around her she screamed and then in the blink of an eye they were disappearing. Feeling as if she were being squeezed through a wormhole, she fought the nausea that was turning her stomach and fought against her captor. Suddenly they landed hard and she immediately struggled from his grasp, looking around at her surroundings and finding herself in some run down, dingy house. Looking desperately for a way out she jumped as she heard someone call out, "Moody?"
"In here," the man who had taken her replied gruffly. Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance; his face was scarred and he had an eye that was not real and seemed to be rolling in all directions in its' eye socket. Starting to shake with fear, her gaze flew to a doorway where another man had just made his way into the room. He too had scars on his face and neck, but there was something...friendlier about him than the other man. Taking in his tattered clothing, unkempt hair and mustache, and slight smile she asked, "W-Where am I? What do you want with me?" And as flashes of what had happened in her house passed before her eyes she tearfully asked, "And why did you kill my parents?"
"They're dead?" the scruffy one asked the man he had called Moody. With a slight nod of his head, Moody made his way from the room grumbling about hysterical females as the other man took a few tentative steps toward her, both of his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I know you've been through a horrible ordeal tonight, but I promise you that I will in no way harm you. We were actually trying to save your family tonight but unfortunately we found out about what was being planned too late."
Hermione stood there silently staring at him and when he realized she wasn't going to say anything he said, "I'm Remus Lupin, by the way. You're Hermione Granger, right?"
Hermione continued to stare at him wordlessly when she suddenly heard her mother's voice whisper inside her head, "It's okay. You can trust him." Looking around for the source of the voice, Hermione's gaze fell on Remus once more and tears started to fall from her eyes. "Yes," she replied, her voice trembling, "I'm Hermione Granger."
She practically collapsed onto the floor then, the weight of what had happened that night hitting her all at once, and her legs gave out as exhaustion weakened them. When she heard something hit the floor in front of her, she opened her eyes to find the notebook her mother had given her just hours ago. In all the commotion she must have unconsciously (or subconsciously) held onto it during everything that had happened and when Remus went to reach for it, she snatched it up quickly and held it protectively against her chest. Noticing an envelope that had fallen from the notebook, he picked it up before she saw it and saw that it was a Hogwarts envelope. "Are you a Hogwart's student?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers, making her uncomfortable.
"N-No," she replied. "My m-..." her voice broke with grief but she continued. "My mum had just told me tonight that I was a witch and that they had been hiding it from me all these years."
"How old are you?" Remus asked.
'Tell him' her mother's voice once again whispered inside her head. "Eighteen," she replied. "Just last week."
"So, you'd be a seventh year," he said, studying her closely. "Have you ever done any accidental magic before? Anything ever break when you've gotten particularly angry about something or things moving if you're upset ....things like that?"
"Just tonight," she admitted. "I got really angry and one of my mum's crystal figurines shattered."
Nodding thoughtfully he said, "You'll stay here tonight where we can watch over you and then in the morning we'll go to Diagon Alley to get your things for Hogwarts. I think that will be the safest place for you to be right now."
"You sound as if someone is hunting me down," she said in disbelief.
"Someone is," Remus replied seriously. "And he's one of the most powerful, evil wizards to ever live. I'm not sure yet why he's so intent on killing you, but hopefully the Headmistress of Hogwarts can explain it to us more when we get there." She stood where she was as he turned toward the stairs, taking in everything he was telling her, when he stopped walking and turned back to her. "Well, come on then. You need to get some sleep, you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow and then Monday you'll travel to Hogwarts."
As she walked toward him, he handed her a little vial that held a sky blue liquid in it and said, "Drink that. It'll help you sleep without dreaming." Too exhausted to even think, worry, or care if it was poison or not, Hermione drained it and followed him to a room. When he gestured for her to go in, she opened the door to find the room as dusty as the others. Finding that the bed was clean though and looked oh-so-inviting, she made her way over to it and flopped down onto it, falling asleep almost immediately.