Category: Harry Potter
Author: Mrs Pettyfer
Title: Changing Fate
Pairing(s): Draco/Hermione, Ron/Hermione, Ron/Lavender, Harry/Ginny, Dean/Ginny
A/N: Hey guys! So long story short: this is a completed story. I wrote this over at HPFF but can no longer post stories on the site. (Which you probably noticed if you follow me there) If you want more details, you can always PM me. I decided to post it here, and especially hoped my loyal readers over at HPFF would find me. This story has a sequel, and I PROMISE you all will get it. I have not abandoned my readers. I want you all to know that. Getting to repost this story is actually a blessing, because I'm able to touch it up and catch things I might of missed. Now over the drama, and about the story:
This is my version of HBP (book 6) in Hermione's point of view, third person. I am keeping it close to HBP, but adding a lot of changes as well. I love the idea of Stephenie Meyer writing Midnight Sun, which is Twilight in Edward's POV. So that's what I'm doing here. Different perspective, but with new twists.
This is a Dramione but if you're looking for a story that jumps right into Draco/Hermione romance, this isn't it! This is 39 chapters that will allow relationships to slowly evolve into themselves. So be patient and enjoy! This story actually had over 900 reviews at HPFF so I'm hoping to top that over here! Think we can do it? Let's find out!
Note: The quotations in the prologue belong to J.K. Rowling, as do the characters and wonderful world of Harry Potter.
"We're all grieving,
Lost and bleeding." – The Only One, Evanescence
Prologue: The Unbreakable Vow
In a dark and dingy cottage, two witches and one wizard stood at arms length, each grasping hands tightly. The thin blonde witch turned her attention to the tall, greasy haired wizard.
"Should it prove necessary…if it seems Draco will fail…" whispered Narcissa, "will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?"
"I will," said Snape.
Chapter 1 : Departure
It was nearing midnight in the Granger household. The sky was a deep, jet black with few stars twinkling in the moonlight. The warm summer breeze ruffled the curtains of Hermione Granger's cracked window, causing a piece of manila parchment to drift off her desk onto the wooden floor. The parchment was a newspaper clipping from The Dailey Prophet:
MINISTER RUFUS SCRIMGEOR: PICKING UP THE PIECES
Rumors have been flying about recent events involving the Ministry of Magic break in and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It has been confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted, alongside several acclaimed Death Eaters; some of which were caught and immediately brought to Azkaban to await trial. For more information regarding the caught Death Eaters, see page 5.
It was also confirmed that none other than Harry Potter—the only boy to survive the killing curse—was present, along with several other students from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The purpose of the break in is still unknown, but latest intelligence states the disturbance was involved in the unknown and rumored existence of the Department of Mysteries. It is rumored that prophecies are stored in the Department of Mysteries, but once again, we have received no comment or confirmation of such speculations.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, and even if I did, I would not tell you," said Bob Hatcher, a Ministry worker late last night when confronted about the existence of the Department of Mysteries. If indeed the Department holds prophecies, what would He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named be searching for? Some say it regards Harry Potter; perhaps answering our question of whether or not Potter is The Chosen One—the only one able to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
"We are doing everything in our power to take care of the situation," said the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeor. Mr. Scrimgeor had recently been the Head of the Auror office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement before succeeding Cornelius Fudge. Fudge will remain as the Vice Minister of Magic and is currently (ctd. Page 4, column 3)
The black printed ink on the news clipping was beginning to fade, as Hermione had read this article more than a dozen times, attempting to find hidden clues or messages within the words; something the Ministry of Magic was notorious for. Of course, the article contained some few facts, seeing as the Prophet was bound to get something right every once in awhile.
It was true that not only Harry Potter had been present at the incident; Hermione had also been there, along with their other friends from Hogwarts: Ron and Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom. They had fought alongside Harry against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, also known as Lord Voldemort; and his followers, the Death Eaters. The article also had another correct speculation: The fight had begun in the Department of Mysteries.
Hermione could not agree on a more appropriate name. The Department was by far one of the strangest places she had ever been and certainly the most fearful. Rooms that made you forget the time. Giant glass cases filled with swimming brains. Hermione had fought for her life in that department. If it had not been for the Order, she and her friends would probably not have made it out alive.
A low purr caused Hermione to stir in her sleep. Her large, ginger cat Crookshanks was nestled at her feet on the bed, completely obviously to the chaos and fear in the wizarding world. As Crookshanks's purr increased in volume, Hermione's eyes snapped open in alarm and she sat up quickly, snatching her wand on her bedside table. She only had to blink twice for her eyes to focus, and she gazed around in anticipation, ready to spring up into a duel, only to find her room in perfect normality.
Books lay scattered across her desk, alongside stacks of parchment and new quills. Her plum walls were in a desperate need of a fresh coat of paint. Matching curtains ruffled the edge of the floor, and when Hermione breathed in the warm summer air, she noticed her window was cracked open. She slid out of her bed, careful not to irritate Crookshanks, and crept to the window, shutting it quietly.
She couldn't sleep with that sort of noise anymore.
Ever since the fight at the Ministry last year, Hermione found herself on high alert. Voldemort was gaining power, and the upcoming war was practically breathing down her neck. She found herself glancing around corners more often than usual; checking over her shoulder from time to time, just to make sure no one in a dark cloak was following her. These were, of course, advice sent out by the Ministry earlier this summer. But really, Hermione would have increased her protection anyway, just out of common sense.
After giving her room a double scan, she sighed and curled back in her bed, praying to have a dreamless sleep. She doubted that would happen—the maniacal laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to haunt most of them. You didn't encounter Bellatrix Lestrange and not remember it.
Several hours, and much too soon later, the bright sun shone through Hermione's window. The light seemed to slip through the curtains, glaring on her face and forcing her to wake. She opened her eyes and let out a loud yawn. She was fighting the urge to sleep an extra hour, but her need, and habit, to be up early was too much to resist. She would be departing from her home to go to the Weasley's before catching the train to Hogwarts. And today was the day.
With a quick glance at the purring Crookshanks, Hermione got out of bed. She moved a bit robotically from her room and into the bathroom across the hall. A nice warm shower was what she needed to begin her day. Her dream hadn't been of Bellatrix, but it hadn't been all too pleasant either: she had watched Luna and Ginny disappear through the Archway she had seen at the Department of Mysteries. No matter how much Hermione tried, she couldn't save them. They had been lost in the Archway forever.
She spent the next hair hour scrubbing away her bad dream. When she finished, she wiped the fog from the mirror and gazed at her reflection. She pulled a face ever so slightly. Sure, her brown hair was a bit less bushy and her front teeth were not quite as large, but ever since the battle last year, worry seemed the line her face, aging her ten years. And not in a good way.
She retrieved her wand from her bedside dresser and brought it to the bathroom before realizing she could not properly fix her hair. Not quickly or magically, at least. This thought alone caused her a groan of annoyance. Why couldn't she just turn seventeen already?
At sixteen, she was still considered an underage witch. An underage witch or wizard was not permitted to use magic at home until they became of age, which was seventeen in the wizarding world. She had a few more months to go before she could work freely with her wild hair at her own leisure.
She dressed quickly, and managed to braid her hair while it was wet, deciding she'd deal with it later. Mrs. Weasley could probably do something with it. Besides, she really needed to re-check her trunk and make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.
"Hermione Jean, I think you better hurry," called a voice from somewhere downstairs.
"Coming!" she called back in response. "I'm just double checking my list to make sure I have everything I need. Now where is my copy of Hogwarts, A History…I can't leave home without it."
She searched several boxes in her closet, digging deep for her favorite school book. Imagining a school year without seemed impractical.
"Hermione, this hairbrush keeps glowing bluer and bluer by the minute. I swear it does—you better get down here! It's really freaking me out."
Hermione smiled at her dad when she met his worried gaze at the top of the stairs: trunk under one arm and Crookshanks's cage in the other.
"Dad, calm down. I told you the portkey would start to glow before I leave, remember? It's just a warning."
John Granger eyed the hairbrush warily as though it would attack him at any minute. Muggles didn't deal with magic on a daily basis, and even though Hermione was the witch in the family, her parents were still a little leery on the whole magic business.
"Come here," said John, holding out his arms and relaxing.
Hermione didn't hesitate and let him pull her to his chest. John Granger was rather large and portly, once an athlete in his school days. He gave fierce, bone-crushing hugs, but at this point Hermione was used to them.
"Now—you be safe, okay? Your mother is sorry to miss you leave but she had to go to the office."
Mr. and Mrs. Granger were dentists that owned their own practice. They worked five to six days out of the week and rarely had any free time. Ever since Hermione had grown up, that free time had decreased even more. Hermione suspected it was because as parents they assumed a teenage daughter wanted alone time. But really, she wasn't an average teenager. Most teenagers don't fight for their lives on a yearly basis—or have a best friend that's hunted by the world's darkest and dangerous wizard.
Sometimes Hermione wanted to tell them of her adventures, but mostly she sugar coated them. Why worry them?
"It's okay, dad," she said with an understanding smile. "Tell her goodbye and I love her. I'll write you soon, of course."
She checked her watch, showing it to be 8:20 a.m. According to Mr. Weasley's plan, she had 2 minutes before the portkey would be ready. With 10 seconds to go, she placed Crookshanks's cage on top of her trunk and reached out to grip the glowing hairbrush. She smiled once more to her dad, whispering a final note of goodbye, before a strong pull from her navel whisked her away.
It happened very fast. When Hermione opened her eyes, she found she had landed in a large field under a magnificent apple tree. She looked around and saw a smiling Mr. Weasley. His fire red hair had thinned a little since the last time she saw him but his freckles were as prevalent as ever. He seemed to have aged more in the past few months but still held a note of childish joy on his face. His patchy cloak was wrapped loosely around his arms, and a bowler hat rested askew across his thinning hair.
"Hello Hermione," Mr. Weasley greeted pleasantly. "Nice time with the muggles?"
"Yes, thank you." Mr. Weasley reached for her belongings and she thanked him again. "It feels great to be back, though. Now I can actually fix my hair without using a hairdryer." Her musing wasn't meant to be said aloud but Mr. Weasley was beaming.
"Really?" He asked, with a look one might find on a child's face in a candy store. "A hairdryer. How does that function, exactly? Is it eclectic?"
Hermione had to hold back a laugh at the expression on his face.
"Next time I go home, I'll bring one back for you Mr. Weasley, and you can examine it yourself."
They had to walk the rest of the way on foot, and reached the Burrow around fifteen minutes later. The Burrow had been given extra protection—not allowing anyone to apparate or disapparate on the grounds. Harry would be coming to stay soon, and that required ample protection. He hated how special treatments were always made, but Hermione knew no one was bothered by it. She wasn't either, especially. Harry was the world's hope in destroying Voldemort, after all. But more importantly, he was her best friend.
"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley didn't give Hermione a chance to even look around the Burrow when she entered, instead pulling her into her second fierce hug of the day. "It's so good to see you."
"You too Ginny," Hermione replied, pulling back and smiling at her best girl friend.
Ginny had grown taller, passing Hermione an inch or two. Her long auburn hair shone in the catching sunlight. She was the only Weasley to have a sort of dark reddish hair rather than fire blazing like everyone else in her family. Her features were straight and perfect, but it was her fierceness and determination that truly made her shine.
"Let's put your stuff in my room," Ginny suggested. "Ron's outside de-gnoming the yard. Mum caught him using magic the other day and told him if he didn't have the yard de-gnomed by midday, she'd jinx his fingers together." She gave a loud, very not at all girly, snort of laughter.
Hermione couldn't hold back a laugh, knowing full well that Mrs. Weasley was probably not bluffing. Hermione could imagine Ron's reaction perfectly as he cursed under his breath, his ears burning scarlet.
She continued to smile at the thought as Ginny helped her up the stairs with her trunk. Hermione let Crookshanks out of his cage, deciding he probably wanted to wander freely for awhile.
Ginny's room was small, with cramped furniture and bright orange walls. Quidditch articles were stacked high across the tiny desk, and a comforter of the Holyhead Harpies rested on the bed. Hermione wasn't sure they could both fit in Ginny's bed but they'd make it work.
After unpacking, the girls headed down downstairs for breakfast. Mr. Weasley was already sitting at the high end of the table, a cup of coffee in hand and the Daily Prophet in the other. Hermione went to take a seat in one of the mismatched chairs when Ron came barreling through the back door, cursing loudly. His freckled face was covered in dirt, along with his robes and hands.
"Looking nice, Ron," said Hermione through a fit of giggles. Ginny was roaring with outright laughter.
Ron's face matched his hair but he smiled weakly. "When did you get here?"
"Just a bit ago, actually."
Before Ron could reply, Mrs. Weasley came scurrying into the kitchen, looking slightly disheveled. She caught sight of Hermione, and her expression warmed.
"Hermione dear, lovely to see you." She patted Hermione kindly on the shoulder before rounding on Ron, losing all friendliness. "And you are not finished Ronald Weasley."
"But I'm hungry," Ron grumbled, shuffling his feet.
"I don't care! You should have thought of that when you thought you could use magic. Now out! And wash up before you come back inside. You're dragging dirt into the house!"
Mrs. Weasley may not look very intimidating with her plump and cheery self and warm smile but anyone who knew her knew not to cross the line. Ron apparently, had been doing a lot of line crossing.
He looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Ginny was silently smirking, and Hermione had to bite her lip so she would not laugh. Mrs. Weasley turned her glare from Ron to smile at Hermione, as though remembering her.
"I'm sure you are hungry too dear," she said kindly. "What would you like for breakfast? Eggs? Toast? Sausages?"
"Eggs are fine, thanks Mrs. Weasley. "Hermione smiled and then turned her attention to Ron just as he was leaving.
"Wait, Ron!" she called after him. "Where's Harry? I thought he was arriving before me?"
"Should be here in a few days I reckon," Ron said, turning to Mr. Weasley for confirmation. "Right, Dad?"
"Yes, Dumbledore said he would arrive on Tuesday, after they…er, make a stop."
Mr. Weasley then decided to find something out of the window rather interesting.
Both Hermione and Ron looked at each other at the same time, completely puzzled.
"Dumbledore? Dumbledore is getting Harry from the Dursley's? Hah! I would pay ten galleons and a sneakoscope to see that!" Ron's laughter echoed inside the kitchen as he slipped through the back door.
Hermione had put a lot of thought to her best friend these past few weeks. During the battle at the Ministry, Harry had lost his Godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius was previously known as a massive murderer and the reason Harry parents were killed, according to the Ministry of Magic. This notion however, had been proven false by Hermione, Harry, and Ron.
Sirius had never betrayed James and Lily Potter to Voldemort—nor did he murder thirteen people in front of dozens of Muggles; another accusation he was charged with. The wrong doing was by Peter Pettigrew, on both counts; another past friend of James, Remus Lupin, and Sirius.
As it stood, Sirius would have been the only living person Harry could call his family. But Sirius's true story could never be revealed because Pettigrew had escaped. Sirius had to live in secrecy, and Harry barely got to spend any time with him before he was killed.
Hermione hadn't even had a proper chance to talk to Harry about Sirius. She knew he wouldn't want to—his nature was to hold back his emotions and things that bothered him—but she wanted to at least let him know she was there for him.
With a resigned sigh, she gazed out of the window, lost in thought, while Mrs. Weasley spooned several eggs onto her empty plate.
Okay first, thanksfor reading! I want to point outthat to me, one of the most important things withwriting this story is keeping the characters true to themselves. Rowling created fantastic characters and I want everyone tomy story is believeable, if that makes sense.
A/N: Thank you for reading. This is a pretty short chapter-a bit informational but I want everyone to have a good mindset of where we are in the story. As I said earlier, this is already complete. I plan on updating two or three chapters a week, depending on the demand. :P I am having to re-read and edit the chapters, but updates will be quick.
Reviews are very much appreciated. It's very strange reposting this story, haha but hey, maybe it'll be worth it. If you are re-reading this from HPFF, please don't leave spoilers in reviews. :P You guys know what happens and if you give it away, I may just change some things around! Mwaha.
For HPFF readers: If you're wondering about Wanted, I will post it eventually if you want. Let me know. ;)