Prologue


When she was a little girl, her parents used to call her Mimi.

It was an odd nickname, but Hermione loved it. At the age of two, she couldn't pronounce her name right. 'Hermione' was just too long and difficult for a toddler to say . When asked, she would stutter or mispronounce it. In the end, she started to introduce herself as Mimi. It was short, easy to say. However, as she grew up, she thought the nickname sounded childish and unlike any name that a powerful witch would have. So, at the age of 13 she insisted that her parents call her Hermione. It had been that way since. Almost everything from her childhood had changed. Her friends and her hobbies. The one thing that never changed from her childhood, was her love of roses. She was unsure of where this obsession came from, but it was strong and she couldn't walk by a bouquet of roses without stopping to admire or even buy. Her favorite kind was Black Magic. They were dark, almost blood red and just so beautiful. Nothing in the world seemed more important then that natural, earth born beauty.

All of that changed on the day that the doctors told her she was going to die.