Rewritten Destiny

Hermione Granger stood in the living room of her family’s home, excitedly packing for their trip to France. It had been a while since she spent quality time with her parents, and this vacation was a perfect opportunity to reconnect. Her mother, Emma Granger, and her father, Dan Granger, were just as excited, bustling around the house, ensuring everything was in order.

 

"Are you sure you have everything, sweetheart?" Emma called from the kitchen, her voice tinged with motherly concern.

 

"Yes, Mum, I’ve checked and rechecked. Everything’s packed," Hermione replied, zipping up her suitcase. Angitia, her snake familiar, coiled herself discreetly in the side pocket of the luggage, hidden from sight.

 

"This is going to be a great trip, Hermione. It’s been too long since we’ve all taken a break together," Dan said, walking into the room with a smile.

 

"I know, Dad. I’m looking forward to it," Hermione responded, hugging her father. "I’ve been so caught up in my studies and... other things," she added, thinking of the intense ritual she had recently performed.

 

The trip to the airport was uneventful, with Hermione’s parents chatting excitedly about the places they planned to visit in Paris. They went through the typical muggle security checks, Hermione feeling out of place without her wand. The plane ride was long, but Hermione didn’t mind. She spent the time reading a book on French culture and history, occasionally glancing out of the window at the clouds below.

 

Upon landing at Charles de Gaulle Airport, the Grangers were greeted by the bustling atmosphere of Paris. They collected their luggage and went to their hotel, a quaint place in the city's heart near the Louvre. The streets of Paris were alive with people, the air filled with the smells of fresh bread and flowers from the numerous bakeries and florists.

 

The first few days were a whirlwind of muggle tourist activities. They visited the Eiffel Tower, where they took in the breathtaking views of the city from the top. Hermione marvelled at the intricate ironwork and the engineering marvel it represented. They strolled along the Seine, visited the Notre Dame Cathedral, and spent hours wandering through the Louvre, where Hermione’s love for history and art was rekindled.

 

"This city is amazing," Hermione said one evening as they dined at a small bistro. "It’s so full of history and culture."

 

"Yes, and there’s so much more to see. We’ve only just scratched the surface," Dan replied, raising his glass in a toast. "To family and new adventures."

 

"To family and new adventures," Emma and Hermione echoed, clinking their glasses together.

 

Hermione cherished these moments with her parents, knowing how precious they were. However, she also felt a pull towards the magical side of France. On the fourth day, she told her parents she wanted to explore independently, promising to meet them later for dinner.

 

With Angitia hidden safely in her bag, Hermione set off to find Rue Sorcier, the magical alley she had read about. It was supposed to be near the Notre Dame Cathedral, hidden from muggle eyes by a series of charms. After searching, she found a nondescript archway that shimmer slightly. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through.

 

Rue Sorcier was a magical haven. The cobblestone street was lined with shops selling everything from potion ingredients to enchanted jewellery. The air buzzed with Magic, and Hermione felt a thrill of excitement. She visited several shops, buying rare ingredients and a beautiful enchanted quill.

 

Hermione’s leading destination was "Le Pavillon des Rêves," the famous café known for its enchanted pastries. She sat at a small table outside, ordering a cup of chocolat chaud and a croissant that sparkled with edible glitter. As she sipped her drink, she watched the magical folk go about their day, feeling a sense of belonging in this hidden world.

 

"It’s beautiful here, Angitia," Hermione said, her voice low so as not to attract attention.

 

"Yes, it is. There’s a richness to the Magic here, a depth that is quite enchanting," Angitia replied, her voice echoing in Hermione’s mind.

 

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon exploring Rue Sorcier. She visited the famous French wizarding library, "La Bibliothèque Enchantée," known for its extensive collection of ancient texts and magical tomes. She spent hours there, lost in the vast sea of knowledge. Angitia slithered out to explore the shelves, occasionally bringing back a fascinating book for Hermione to read.

 

"Look at this, Hermione. It’s a book on ancient magical artifacts of France," Angitia said, her eyes gleaming excitedly.

 

Hermione took the book and began to read. The artefacts described were fascinating, each with its unique history and magical properties. She made notes, knowing that this information might be helpful.

 

As the day turned into evening, Hermione returned to the hotel. She felt a deep sense of satisfaction, having reconnected with her roots in the magical world while also enjoying her time with her parents. The balance between her two worlds felt more harmonious than ever.

 

When she returned to the hotel, her parents waited in the lobby. They went out for a late dinner, enjoying the vibrant nightlife of Paris. They ate at a small, family-run restaurant; the food was delicious, and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming.

 

"This trip has been wonderful, Hermione. I’m glad we could all be together," Emma said, her eyes shining with happiness.

 

"Me too, Mum. It’s been perfect," Hermione replied, feeling a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

 

After dinner, they took a leisurely walk back to the hotel, the streets of Paris illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. Hermione felt content, knowing that she was exactly where she needed to be.

---

 

Narcissa Malfoy stood on the balcony of her villa in the Italian countryside, the warm breeze ruffling her platinum blonde hair. She had spent weeks tracking Hector Dagworth-Granger, following every lead, every whisper that might hint at his whereabouts. Now, she was finally close.

 

Hector's hideaway was a secluded villa in Tuscany's rolling hills. It was an ancient structure, hidden away from prying eyes by layers of enchantments. Narcissa had broken through his defences with cunning and sheer willpower, determined to bring him to justice for what he had done to her sister, Bellatrix.

 

She had informed Severus Snape of her plans, and he had agreed to assist her. They would approach the villa under the cover of darkness, taking Hector by surprise.

 

"Severus, are you ready?" Narcissa asked, her voice cold and determined.

 

"Yes, Narcissa. Let’s finish this," Snape replied, his tone matching hers.

 

As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, Narcissa moved stealthily through the villa’s gardens. She wore a dark cloak that blended with the shadows, her wand ready. The villa was eerily quiet, but she could sense the dark Magic that permeated the air.

 

She found Hector in his study, surrounded by books and potions. He looked up, startled, as she entered but quickly masked his surprise with a sneer.

 

"Lady Malfoy", he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

 

Narcissa’s eyes blazed with cold fury. "House Black business, as a Daughter of the House of Black, it would look bad on me if I didn’t settle outstanding debts whilst Lord Black is unable to."

 

Hector’s sneer faltered, replaced by a flicker of fear. He reached for his wand, but Narcissa was faster. She disarmed him with a swift flick of her wrist, his wand clattering to the floor.

 

"You’re going to tell me everything," she said, her voice deadly calm. "Why you did it, who else was involved, and if you were working for the Dark Lord."

 

Hector backed away, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "What are you talking about, woman? How dare you break into my home!” he blustered back, still his eyes searching the room desperately.

 

Narcissa’s lip curled “Oh, perhaps you need a reminder? CRUCIO!”

 

Hector’s eyes went wide as he saw the spell coming towards him, but to his surprise, he didn’t dodge in time and was struck and fell to the floor, writhing in agony. Narcissa’s magic became volatile, and her family's magic came full force in response to her defending the Blacks.

 

Family magic was unusual in the magical world, and it was still not fully understood even within the Department of Mysteries. With each generation, the blood would hold an echo of the Magic held within its predecessors until it took on some sentience, usually through a shared goal or belief of the family ‘Toujours Pur’ which came from the phrase ‘Comme la noble famille Black, gardons nostre magie et nostre héritage, tousjours pur.’ Like the noble Black family, let us keep our magic and heritage, which are always pure.

 

This didn’t, however, mean that the family magic made stronger witches and wizards. Still, it did mean that it would make your Magic more tailored to certain types of Magic, in the case of the blacks, defending their family from the perversion of Magic and heritage would make any emotion fuelled spells stronger. This meant that spells that you ‘needed to mean’ were easier to cast; this didn’t extend to dark Magic, but all Magic, such as the Patronus charm.

 

Whilst not knowing this and unable to appreciate the spectacle of family magic from his current position, Hector was suffering from it.

 

His nails cutting into his palms as he writhed on the floor, snot and spittle dripping down his face as he screamed and cried out for help, his arms and legs contorted into unnatural positions so you could see the strain his tendons and the cracking of joints and bones alike.

 

Severus entered the room midway through, and his face held no emotion as he looked down upon Hector. “Narcissa, I have found some… prisoners in the basement.”

 

Narcissa dropped her spell but kept her wand trained on him while she cast a cancerous one. “Can they be healed?”

 

“No.” He said shortly.

 

“Could we drop them off at a local hospital?” Narcissa queried, her voice still emotionless, but her eyes gave away the cold fury she kept at bay.

 

“Yes, they are muggles so they have better facilities than our world.”

 

She nodded and drew her attention back to Hector. “As fun as this has been, Hector, darling. I asked you a question, and I would like an answer, please,” she said, her voice dripping with venom.

 

Hector gasped for breath, his body trembling from the aftershocks of the Cruciatus Curse. He glared at Narcissa, but the fear in his eyes was undeniable.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. "I had nothing to do with Bellatrix!"

 

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Lies will only bring you more pain," she warned, her wand steady and unwavering. "Tell me the truth, or I will make you suffer in ways you can't even imagine."

 

Hector's resolve crumbled under her steely gaze. "Alright, alright!" he cried out, desperation lacing his words. "I was forced to work with her. The Dark Lord... he threatened my family. I had no choice!"

 

Narcissa's expression remained cold. "And who else was involved?" she demanded. "Names, Hector. I want names."

 

Hector swallowed hard, his eyes darting to Severus, who watched silently by the door. "Rookwood," he confessed. "And Dolohov. They were part of it. But it wasn't just them. There were others, too... people you wouldn't expect."

 

Narcissa's grip on her wand tightened. "And what about the Dark Lord? Was he directly involved in this plot against Bellatrix?"

 

Hector shook his head frantically. "No, no! It was all done under his orders, but he didn't involve himself directly. He left it to us to handle."

 

Narcissa exchanged a brief glance with Severus, who nodded slightly. "Very well," she said, her voice softer but no less dangerous. “Ferventi Sanguine” was cast towards him.

 

Hector's eyes bulged, his body felt as if it was on fire, and he again writhed in pain. Narcissa looked on with that same cold fury, but she wasn’t satisfied; he needed to suffer more “Cruicio”, she layered the torture spell on top of the Blood Boiling spell, ensuring he felt every ounce of her hatred as his blood slowly got hotter and hotter until it boiled him alive from the inside.

After a few minutes, Hector stopped writhing and struggling; Severus checked for a pulse. “It is done”.

 

Narcissa nodded, her expression unchanging as she looked down at Hector's lifeless form. "Good," she said, her voice void of any remorse. "He deserved far worse."

 

Severus glanced around the study, ensuring no more surprises awaited them. "We should leave before anyone else arrives," he suggested, his tone calm and practical.

 

Narcissa turned her gaze to Severus, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Severus. Your help has been invaluable."

 

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Anything for an old friend," he replied, his voice softer.

 

Together, they went to the basement, where the prisoners were kept. The air was thick with despair and the smell of damp stone. Severus illuminated the dark corridor with a flick of his wand, revealing a group of terrified Muggles huddled in the corners of their cells.

 

"We can't leave them here," Narcissa said firmly. "They deserve a chance at life, even if it's among their kind."

 

Severus nodded, and with a few swift spells, the cell doors swung open. The Muggles looked up, confused and frightened but too weak to make sudden movements.

 

"Come with us," Narcissa instructed, her tone authoritative but not unkind. "We will take you somewhere safe."

 

The Prisoners, however, didn’t seem to understand her words. They were presumably too far gone to even follow orders. ' That bastard,’ she thought. ‘I should have made it take longer.’ She cast a levicorpus at them after stunning them. Severus led the way, ensuring their escape was as smooth as possible. They moved through the villa, careful not to attract any unwanted attention.

 

Outside, the night was silent, the villa shrouded in darkness. Narcissa and Severus guided the prisoners to a secluded spot near the edge of the property. There, they performed a series of memory modification spells, ensuring the Muggles would remember nothing of their ordeal or intervention. As unlikely as saving them was, a Legilimens could still find evidence of them here tonight.

 

"They'll find their way to a hospital", Severus said, watching as the Muggles stumbled away, disoriented but free. “I’ll leave an anonymous tip at a muggle payphone later to make sure.”

 

Narcissa sighed, a sense of grim satisfaction settling over her. "It's done," she said quietly, more to herself than Severus. "Justice has been served."

 

Severus placed a hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort. "Bellatrix would be proud," he said softly.

 

Narcissa nodded, a tear escaping down her cheek. "For the House of Black," she whispered, her voice a mix of sorrow and determination. "Toujours pur."

 

Together, they disapparated from the villa, leaving behind the remnants of Hector's treachery and the ghosts of their past. The night was still, the air heavy with the weight of their actions, but for Narcissa, there was a sense of closure. She had upheld her family's honour, avenged her sister, and protected her heritage.

 

And as they vanished into the night, the words of the Black family motto echoed in her mind, a reminder of the legacy she carried and the strength it gave her.

 

The following morning, a Gringotts Owl was dispatched bearing the following name.

 

Heiress Hermione Jean Dagworth-Granger

Room 3

21 Rue des Prêtres Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois,

75001 Paris,

France