I'm re-writing this story because after five years of looking at it… I've nearly died of embarrassment that I've kept this story up for everyone to read my naive mistakes and writing ways. Damn my younger self…

Majority of the plot/ideas in this story was inspired by a particular book I read; Lord of Snow and Shadows by Sarah Ash. I recommend reading this book and its sequels, it's a good read

Disclaimer: Other than the plot and ideas of the story, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.


It was an ordinary day for wizards and muggles, despite the news of terror and unnatural disasters. Over the few years the dark news became occasional and so this is why we may call today an ordinary day. It was a good day to sleep in, especially for some whom have had stayed up most of the night curled up in bed reading a good book they couldn't put down. One of those happened to be our Hermione Granger.

The curtains were closed, hiding away the sunlight that seeped through some gaps and the room was silent. If you looked carefully you can see a few golden brown strands of hair, caught by the miniscule amount of sunlight. The door opens to reveal a woman whose slightly slouched figure proposes the idea of weariness. She calls out to her slumbering daughter. "Hermione."

A groan was heard from under the covers and a shifting movement could be seen. Impatient was the tone heard in the second calling of-"HERMIONE!" Covers moved and up sat Hermione, bed hair and all.

"Yes, mum…" The younger Granger stared groggily at her mother, "…what time is it?"

"It's time for you to get up and dressed properly; your grandmother's here to see you." There seemed to be an unnecessary amount of emphasis on the word 'you', but that could just be the just-woke-up syndrome our Hermione was suffering from.

"Didn't she just come by yesterday? She brought us scones." She could remember after all; her stomach churned at the memory of the amount she had consumed the night before.

"No honey, I'm not talking about your father's mother, I'm talking about mine." There was something off about her tone which made Hermione furrow her brows.

"I don't recall ever meeting her." The lack of sunlight in the room hid the hesitancy on her mother's face.

"Well here's your chance so hurry up!" The door closed and Hermione grudgingly slid out of her cosy blankets; if it wasn't for her curiosity to meet this other grandmother of hers, she would have simply remained snuggled in the warmth of her bed. That's what summer holidays were for right? Sleep ins. Of course, studying was a must considering it would be her last year at Hogwarts as soon as the holidays ended but sleep ins were just as important every now and then.

Brushing her teeth thoroughly she glanced into her mirror. Her hair remained its bushy self, but after being friends with Lavender Brown she was bound to learn a few tips and tricks to keeping it tamed. After rinsing her mouth, she reached for the nearest pair of jeans she'd left on the rack. Once dressed she fixed her hair with the quick usual hair taming charm and once more glanced at the mirror to make sure she was presentable. She wasn't too skinny but nor would she call herself big and if this grandmother decides otherwise, she was going to have a word with her mother.

Once deeming herself presentable she made her way downstairs, pausing mid-step when she saw what looked like her mother's twin. Not nearly as identical; she could just tell the difference with a few age lines but other than that—perhaps her mother meant sister?

"Well?" her voice was haughty and very snappy; Hermione almost cringed as she moved away from the stairs. "This is her? Hurry up and come here, girl, I don't have all day!" With one quick glance at her mother, she hurried to her grandmother nearly crashing into her in such haste. The first thing the long lost relative of Hermione's did was grab her hands. Perhaps she's a hand shaker person—Hermione had thought—

"Look at her nails, they're filthy! But they seem hard enough…" Never mind, maybe she's a beautician. She winced at the harshness as her grandmother rubbed her fingers. "But the fingers are as soft as butter! You've got a lot of catching up to, girl!"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, glancing at her mother questioningly. "What's going on?" Definitely not a beautician's course

"Those questions will be answered once you hurry up and start packing! Now get going! Let's not wait for the sky to fall." Her grandmother sniffed.

"Pack for what? Where am I going?" she folded her arms, completely taken aback, "I'm not going anywhere unless someone explains to me-"

"It's too soon, mother." Hermione's mother put in hurriedly ("what's too soon?"), "And-"

"It's not too soon, you're lucky enough it's not too late! I started when I was a toddler!" her mother's mother snapped. "Now girl, go and pack your things! Just pack some clothes and whatever you need for the rest of this summer!"

"I have a name; it's Hermione and I'm sure you have one too." Hermione tried not to sound too cold as she said this.

"You might be gone just half the summer if you're a fast learner. My name is Beatrix and you will watch your tone, girl." There was a short glaring contest before Hermione hastened to the stairs (no matter how much she'd wanted to stomp immaturely).

In order to avoid another glaring contest with Beatrix, she had everything packed and organized within ten minutes. She looked at her school trunk in hesitance—

"Dear, just leave your school things here." Her mother came behind her. "I'll buy your books and everything will be here and waiting for you when you get back."

"Mum, where is she taking me?" she trembled slightly but her voice remained firm. Being best friends with Harry Potter does that to you; you remain strong even in doubt.

"You'll know soon enough; it's not my place to tell you. But you'll be fine under Beatrix's care, I promise." They hugged whilst Hermione thought bitterly: I wouldn't be surprised if she was at least half related to that Bellatrix.

"Crookshanks, you stay here and be a good boy." Hermione scratched behind her cat's ears, earning a purr and a lazy stretch. "I mean it." She smiled and left her room.

"Good. Have everything you need?" without even waiting for an answer, Beatrix waved a hand over Hermione's eyes. Fatigue and confusion overcame her and the last thing she could recall as she fell into darkness, was someone catching her.

For now we leave Hermione's side and enter a completely new scene. Like the first scene it was dark, but this was darker. No sunlight seeped through those long, expensive black curtains that draped over large windows. The black silk covers shifted to reveal white-blonde hair, mussed from constant shifting. Our Draco Malfoy is dreaming…

He was in forest, sitting on a tree on one of its lowest branches. He soaked himself gladly in the warmth of the sun; it's not every dream he enjoys a scene so peaceful. His misty grey eyes shifted quickly as soon as he heard something in the background. It was a soft harp, playing somewhere behind the trees. Jumping off the branch he followed the sound.

Each tread forward took him closer to the music as the volume increased gradually, he realized it wasn't only the harp but there was a voice accompanying the melody. It belonged to a girl whose voice was so beautiful, so soothing. He emerged from the trees slowly as to not frighten the girl and saw her.

A beautiful figure sitting upon a rock by a creek, long golden honey hair descending into curls, her eyes were closed as she sang. Her voice soothed him completely, her slender fingers gliding along what looked like a harp—but not a harp he recognized. He slowly reached out to touch her shoulder but just as he was about to touch her—


"I'M UP, I'M UP!" Draco sat up, shaken from shock as his mother stood beside his bed. She glared down at him,

"Darling, I've being calling your name for a good ten minutes and you didn't even budge!"

"I...was having a good dream." He mumbled and rubbed his eyes.

"What of?" she asked as she opened the curtains. He grimaced as the sun shone finally shone through, flooding his room and momentarily blinding his eyes.

"It's been the same dream for nights now. Always it's of this girl who-"

"Oh! And who is this girl?" asked Narcrissa, smiling mischievously. "Tell me her name perhaps I know her and her family. I'll be able to match you up finally-" Draco scowled and tossed his pillow at her face (she easily charmed it away) as he strode towards his bathroom. He woke himself properly with a long shower and dressed himself suitable for everyday wear. He looked at the mirror once and smiled. It was a perfect, ordinary day for him.