Return to Eden

Return to Eden

Chapter 3: The Summer From Hell, Part Two

It would be an understatement to say that when Professor Dumbledore settled down for his evening tea that he was surprised when interrupted by the future Head Girl tumbling out of his fireplace. She tripped over the grate and clumsily fell onto the hard stone, her clothes covered in soot. Dumbledore rose from his spot near the table and made his way over to her crumpled form.

"Why, Miss Granger! Are you alright?"

A groan was the only response he received. Raising his wand, he muttered a few choice words that cleaned the soot off her clothing, and then conjured up another cup to go with his. He turned his attention back to Hermione.

"Did you hurt anything? Do you wish for me to call Madame Pomfrey?"

Hermione lifted her head and slowly rose to her feet to face her headmaster. Her face had taken on a pink tinge as she locked eyes with Dumbledore. She attempted a weak smile.

"I'm fine, Professor Dumbledore. That won't be necessary."

Dumbledore smiled at the young girl, his eyes twinkling in merriment. He motioned for her to join him at the small table surrounded by comfy looking chairs. Noticing Hermione's distraught and determined expression, Dumbledore studied her as she settled into the chair across from his own. He lifted his cup of tea and took a small sip before speaking.

"Am I right in believing that you coming here has nothing to do with your studies? We don't usually get visits from students in the summer; even from the Heads."

A small smile escaped from her lips before she quickly set her face in a more resolute expression. "Yes, coming here had nothing to do with school. I have some questions to ask you if you don't mind. I'm sure you're busy, I won't keep you long -"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence her ranting. "Miss Granger, I will be happy to answer any questions you have to the best of my knowledge, and make no mistake that I am never too busy for any of my students." He gave her a kind smile that she just had to return. "What is it that you need?"

Hermione looked down at her hands that were wringing together in her lap before returning the gaze of her headmaster. She seemed to be collecting her thoughts and trying to shape them into words. "Professor Dumbledore, my parents, or who I believed to be my parents, told me today for the first time that I was actually adopted."

Dumbledore simply nodded his head, but shock was clearly apparent in his eyes.

"They told me that I was adopted when I was only six months old from an orphanage. And then, my mother gave me this." Hermione took off the locket and handed it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore studied the locket much in the same way Hermione had. He gasped when he read the inscription on the back, and quickly opened it to see the picture inside. He sat back in his chair, disbelief etched in his features. After a few moments of silence, Hermione spoke again albeit uncomfortably.

"Did you know who she was? My parents said that a strange man, most likely a wizard, dropped me off at the orphanage."

Dumbledore glanced up from the locket looking older than his years. Not acknowledging her question, he took the time to study her face as if seeing her for the first time. He spoke quietly and under his breath, but Hermione caught every word.

"My God! How did I not notice it before? She resembles Delia greatly. Even down to her mannerisms. I never would have thought, but there it is."

By the end of this rambling, Hermione was gazing at Dumbledore very strangely indeed. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Dumbledore finally addressed her previous remark.

"Dear child, you must understand that this all comes as quite of a shock to me. As for your question, yes. I know who she is." He took a deep breath before continuing. "The strange man that dropped you off at the orphanage was myself."

"You, Professor Dumbledore?!"

"Yes, Miss Granger, it was I."

Hermione was dumbfounded. "But, why?! Who was she? Why did she give me up? Is she still alive?" She was quickly working herself into a frenzy.

Dumbledore motioned for her to calm down. "All in good time." He offered her a biscuit from the forgotten tray on the table. "The best place to start is the beginning."

Hermione silently nodded, and Dumbledore waited for her to get comfortable before continuing. "From your reading, I'm sure you will probably already know some of what I am about to tell you." He set the tray down and leaned back. "In the history of the European Wizarding World, there was a time when royalty ruled as a monarchy what we now have the Ministry of Magic for. Wizard royalty was done away with in Britain when Charles I was beheaded in the 17^th century. Most countries now have a ministry or something close to it. However, there are always exceptions. The French are one."

"France has had a wizard monarchy for as long as anyone can remember and continue to have one today. Although some think it is dated, it has never failed to be a sufficient government. It performs the same duties and manages the same problems that a ministry would." Dumbledore paused to take a sip of his tea. Hermione's gaze never wavered as she hung on to every word waiting for this to get to her.

"A few years before you were born, the throne was changing hands in a family power struggle. This family was of the oldest pureblooded families in France. Much like the Malfoys here in Britain. Your mother played a key part in this struggle. Her name was Cordelia Mignonette de Altair." He waited for this to sink in before resuming.

"Delia, as everyone knew her as, was only fifteen when the power struggle occurred. Her grandfather, Phillipe Louis la Beaufort, died leaving the throne open to his successor. The problem was, he never named an heir. This left it to be decided between his brother or his oldest son. Because of the tension and the hostility taking place, Delia was transferred here to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons at the beginning of her sixth year to keep her safe from outside harm."

"While she was here, the Sorting Hat placed her in Ravenclaw." Dumbledore leaned forward and raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure that is where you get your unequaled intelligence. She stayed here long enough to graduate and was able to be Head Girl as well." His eyes were dancing with mirth. "To get back on track, your mother was here at the same time as other people you've heard of. James Potter, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and many others. Your father was also here at that time."

Hermione flinched. Dumbledore had yet to mention a single word about her father.

"Evan Rosier was also a bright student, but not quite as astoundingly so as your mother. He, like Professor Snape, was gifted at practical magic such as Potions. He didn't like a big crowd and could be quite shy at times. He was taken with your mother the moment she arrived here. She was the same way with him. By the end of seventh year, they had grown inseparable. Very much the same as Harry's parents the previous year." (A/N: Hermione's parents are a year younger than Harry's, the Head Boy and Girl after James and Lily)

"Was my father in Ravenclaw like my mother?" Hermione looked hopeful.

"No, your father was in Slytherin along with Snape and Malfoy."

"My father was a Slytherin?!" Hermione looked very faint. Almost as if this piece of information would make her collapse on the spot.

"Yes, he was. Not the arrogant boy that Lucius Malfoy was, but very ambitious, and I'm regretful to say misguided." Dumbledore had a faraway glint in his eyes.

Hermione leaned back in her seat with an audible sigh. She shook her head. "All this time. All this time, I was a pureblood."

Dumbledore cleared his throat while he found his place in the story. "Soon after your mother graduated from Hogwarts, peace was restored in her family and her uncle became king making her third in line to the throne. Once she was of age (A/N: 18), she would be given a title and become Duchess Cordelia de Altair."

Hermione was looking at him with wide eyes in disbelief and seemed to be at a loss for words. "My mother, not only was she royalty, but she was a Duchess?!"

Dumbledore nodded his head. "After receiving her title, it wasn't too long before she married your father. They loved each other very much." Dumbledore face suddenly saddened. "Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to save them."

Hermione processed this information and gazed at Dumbledore with her eyes full of questions. "What do you mean? Save them from what?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked to the fireplace. He placed a hand on the mantel as he watched the flickering flames. The early evening had given way to a chill that was felt in the cheery room. Appearing to be lost in his own memories, he resumed his narration. "They were married about a year after Delia received her title. She, being the loving wife that she was to Evan, decided to stay here in Britain to start a family. They were so happy together and had everything they would ever need. In reality, they kept a dark secret."

Hermione swallowed past the quickly forming lump in her throat. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear this even though she knew she had to. Dumbledore looked like it was painful to be the one telling her.

"The Rosiers were also purebloods and notorious for being reclusive. However, Evan had quite a few close friends. His closest friend while he was here at Hogwarts was Lucius Malfoy. It seemed only fitting that your mother's best friend was Narcissa Esmond. If I am not mistaken, the couples were married within weeks of each other."

"My parents were best friends with Malfoy's parents?!" Hermione looked stricken.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, they were. They lived quite close to each other after marrying, and visited often. Your mother would make occasional trips back to France where she would check up on affairs. About two years after they were married, Delia and Cissa became pregnant around the same time. Both were overjoyed of course, and spent most of their time together talking about the babies. By this time, your father had already pledged himself to serve Voldemort."

Hermione flinched at the Dark Lord's name, but was quickly washed over with absolute horror. "My father was a Death Eater?!?!"

"I'm afraid so, Miss Granger. I hate to be the one to tell you all this, but somebody must." Dumbledore looked solemn, but continued. "Young Mr. Malfoy was born about two weeks before you were, and unbeknownst to your mothers, Mr. Potter was born the week in between. Your father had already participated in several attacks and Voldemort was growing stronger. Months passed and it looked as if the dark side was winning. Most were praying for a miracle. The ministry was trying its best and instated Barty Crouch to oversee the mission. He condoned the use of `all means possible' to capture supporters of Voldemort. It wasn't until far later that we realized the consequences of these actions."

Hermione was startled to see Dumbledore getting choked up about something. "Your mother was on one of her trips to France and had taken you with her. You were almost six months old. It would still be months before Harry was to defeat Voldemort, but the ministry was starting to make progress. Your father went to take part in a planned attack when Aurors showed up. He was caught; but instead of being captured, he was killed in the struggle."

"After learning his identity, Aurors were dispatched to his house to wait for your mother to return. She returned from France not knowing that she was about to walk into a trap. She was taken in for questioning and you were with her when they brought her. The ministry was only concerned with getting answers, and word reached me that she was there. I left Hogwarts and went to the ministry, but I was too late. Not aware of her title, they subjected her to many means of torture to get answers before I arrived, but she would not give any both because she loved Evan and she knew nothing. I was confirmed in my belief that Crouch had gone too far. Delia was brought from the room with very little of her mind left intact." Dumbledore gazed at the floor. "She is now at St. Mungo's as a permanent resident."

Hermione eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Thoughts were flying through her mind at an alarming rate. The ability to speak coherently had left her and two emotions filled her being. Terrible sadness and blinding rage. "So, not only did the ministry kill my father, but they also drove my innocent mother insane?! How could this happen?! How could you have let it happen?!"

"I'm sorry to say that it is true." Dumbledore looked weary, yet resumed. "You were left with a secretary while your mother was questioned. After she was sent to St. Mungo's, it was discussed of what would become of you. Some ministry officials wanted to use you as bait to draw out other Death Eaters that would come to claim a child of a former one. Fortunately, I was able to steal you away and place you in a Muggle orphanage. I was unaware that you had been adopted until now. The orphanage was destroyed not very long after I brought you there."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in anger at the wise wizard she had the utmost respect for until now. She spat out the words as if the answer could only anger her more. "Who?! Who were the ones who wanted to use me?!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes before responding. He seemed to not want to see her reaction. "James Potter, Alastor Moody, Barty Crouch, and Arthur Weasley."

Emotions she had never felt boiled up inside her until she imagined she would explode. She felt lonely and bitter towards the two she had known as friends. Not knowing what else to say until she could sort this out on her own, she asked the only thing she could think of. "Is that it?"

"Yes, that's all I have knowledge of. If you wish to know more about your mother, I suggest you speak with Narcissa Malfoy as she was closer to her than anyone else." Dumbledore was saddened in his confession to Hermione. He was waiting for a larger reaction from her, and was surprised when she kept calm.

Hermione was trying to wrap her head around it all, but was having little success. She was outraged and felt betrayed. I just have to get home where it's quiet so I can think. I'll never be able to face Harry and Ron without feeling this way until I do. I just have to stay calm. "Is there anything else you need to tell me before I leave?"

"Yes, there is. I only told you because you had a right to know what happened. I must say that I regret not being able to save your mother or your father. I know this might make some drastic changes in how you live your life, but know this: Your parents loved you and they were good people no matter what has been said about them. One more thing, your name was originally Regina Anjolie de Altair-Rosier. Once you have come to terms with who you are, there might be certain responsibilities to be carried out."

Hermione stood from her spot across from Dumbledore and made her way back to the fireplace before turning to face him. "What do you mean?"

Dumbledore gave a smile that did not reach the sadness in his eyes. "That will be left for another day. You go home and get some rest. Don't dwell on things that are not in your control. I will see you again in a few weeks; if you need me before then, don't hesitate to come."

Hermione nodded before reaching into a pouch on the mantel labeled `Floo powder.' She was in shock, but still felt resentment and bitterness flow through her veins. The light side was not currently in her favor. Her mind went back to what Draco had been trying to tell her. She threw the powder in the fire before stepping in and shouting, "Hermione Granger's."

The sight that met her upon returning would shake her to the core. If she was beginning to question everything she had ever known, it was nothing compared to what awaited her.