Fanfic [HP]: The Levees Are Breaking [Prologue/?]
Title: The Levees Are Breaking
Category: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Hermione Granger, Rabastan Lestrange, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Ron, Fred, George & Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling & Bloomsbury, et al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,520 words
Spoilers: PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
Summary: In the midst of war, she is about to discover long hidden secrets. When her world turns upside down, Hermione finds that she may have to make a choice - her friends ... or her family?
Notes: May contain spoilers for all books, but the fic starts off during 5th year and will spin AU. Written for the Cliche Challenge at Granger Enchanted
... don’t want to reach for me do you ... i mean nothing to you ... the little things give you away ... and now there will be no mistaking ... the levees are breaking ...
- The Little Things Give You Away, Linkin Park (Minutes to Midnight)
December 31st, 1978
She thought that maybe she was a little drunk - there was a nice haze over her vision and her belly was pleasantly warm from the butterbeer she’d been drinking all night. Alice Burke stared down at the scarred surface of the bar and sighed - this wasn’t how she had thought she’d be spending New Years Eve.
Alone. Miserable.
She toyed with the ring on her finger, the soft gold of the engagement ring dull in the dim lighting. They’d fought, yet again, about Frank’s mother. Augusta Longbottom seemed to be unable to keep her bloody nose out of her son’s love life - mother or not, Frank had better stand his ground soon, or Alice was gone.
Still, maybe she should have kept quiet until after New Years.
“Fancy seeing a girl like you here in a place like this.” Alice started as the husky voice slid over her skin, and spun around, her hand reaching down for her wand.
“Lestrange.” Brown eyes wary, Alice watched him slide uninvited into the seat next to her. Rabastan Lestrange was tall, dark, handsome and a Death Eater. Oh, the MLE had no proof, nothing substantial, but all the Auror’s knew the truth - the Lestrange brothers were right up there with Malfoy and Snape in Voldemort’s inner circle.
“Alice.” He smirked then, in a slow sensuous turn of lips that had Alice’s stomach clenching. They’d been friends of a sort, once. In third year Arithmancy, they’d been the only non-Ravenclaw’s in the class - and since the majority of the ‘claws had been uppity gits, the two had formed an uneasy truce. After all, the feuding between the Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s had been worst in Frank’s year, the rivalry between the Marauders and Snape surpassing anything that the third years had been able to come up with.
“What do you want?” Alice blinked as his dark eyes raked over her. His gaze promised nothing, told her everything. She shivered in response, her own eyes darkening. His hand lifted slowly, sliding whisper soft over her riotous curls. Alice could feel the blood rushing through her veins to settle on her cheeks, the once steady rhythm of her heartbeat speeding to an unsteady staccato beat. Rabastan shifted closer to her, angling his head so that his lips were a mere hairsbreadth away. You’re engaged, a part of Alice screamed when she didn’t move away.
The first touch of his lips on hers silenced the hazy thought - it was like sinking into molasses, she thought. Soft, but overwhelming, the sensation drawing her in until she pulled away, gasping.
“Happy New Years, Alice.”
She could only watch as he sauntered out of the bar - and then she was up and following him before her mind had caught up to her.
“Rabastan!” She caught up to him, spinning him around. They stared at each other before Alice sighed, her mind whispering a thousand apologies to Frank as she tugged his head down to meet hers.
There was nothing soft about this kiss - his arms banded around her body, crushing her torso to his as his lips slanted over hers, demanding entrance. A low moan left her lips as she curled her fingers into his long hair, his tongue taking advantage and sliding inside her mouth to rub against hers. Her head started to spin as one kiss melted into two, and then another and another until they were standing with their forehead’s pressed together, breathless.
“Happy New Year.” Her voice broke the silence, followed by a low chuckle, and then they were silent once more, staring at each other. Alice’s eyes widened as she felt the familiar sensation of her body folding in on itself - a second later, the street was empty, the loud cracking sound that accompanied apparition fading into silence.
September 19th, 1979
Alice Longbottom, nee Burke, stared down at the little baby in her arms and cried. Her baby, her little baby girl - little Hermione with hair that resembled hers and eyes that really didn’t. A choked sob left her lips as her eyes met Frank’s. Her husband looked torn - she knew this couldn’t be easy on him either, but Merlin, this was her baby.
“I’m sorry Alice - but you know that it has to be this way. If he ever thought - if he ever found out -” Frank cut himself off, pressing his lips together to fight the nausea. Hermione should have been his - but she wasn’t, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He could keep her safe though, keep her out of this bloody war.
He pressed a kiss to Alice’s forehead and carefully gathered little Hermione into his arms, whispering a soft goodbye.
July 31st, 1980
“It’s too early, Frank, it’s too early!” Alice’s voice rose as she clutched the bed sheets in her hands, groaning as she rode out the contraction.
“I know sweetie,” Frank whispered, running a cool washcloth over her face. “Hush, Alice, it’ll all be alright.”
Six hours later, watching Alice cradle Neville to her breast, Frank listened in horror as Albus Dumbledore told them of a prophecy.
Their little boy.
Alice looked down at her son, thinking that he looked so small. He’d come too early, nearly an entire month before she was due, and she couldn’t help but wish that he’d just held on a little longer, just one more month.
One more month, and there’d have been no chance of him being the boy in the prophecy. It was cowardly to wish it, she knew - but it didn’t stop her.
November 12th, 1981
She could hear Frank screaming, his voice hoarse, over the sound of Bellatrix laughing. Alice stared into dark eyes, his face hidden behind the ghastly mask. Neville slept soundly in the cot behind her, protected from the heart wrenching sounds.
“Hello Alice.”
Her heart sped into staccato, Alice closing her eyes as memories flitted through her mind. The rough calluses on his wand hand as it slid over her skin, the soft pressure of his mouth at her breast, the solid weight of him when he lay over her.
“Rabastan.” She said it softly, wincing as Frank’s voice filled the room once more.
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled grimly, eyes filled with knowledge. “But you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you.”
Her body tensed as his mouth formed the words, a scream erupting from her lips as the curse tore her nerves apart. Merlin, pleasepleasemakeitstop, stop, please. Alice fell to the floor, scream after scream tearing from her mouth - and then, blessed silence. Rabastan lifted his wand, kneeling down to hold her chin his hands.
“You have to mean the curse, you know.” He said it almost conversationally - Alice stared up at him, trying to make sense of his words amidst the clamouring of her shredded nerves. “The Unforgivables - any one can say the words, but you have to mean the words, and let me tell you Alice, it takes a lot of effort to hate someone that much.”
She moaned in response, a blanket of pain settling over her vision. Everything hurt.
“I’m surprised actually - that I could actually cast it on you.” He tilted his head, and ran his hand soothingly over her curls. “I didn’t think I could, actually,” his hand clenched into her hair, and his voice hardened. “But then again, you did take my child away from me.”
Fear, like nothing she’d known overtook her. “Yo - you knew?”
He laughed, the sound chilling. “Of course I knew.” She groaned as he tugged at her. “Where is she, Alice?”
“I don’t know.” Her lips were bleeding, she realized vaguely.
“Don’t lie to me!”
“I’m not - I don’t know where she is.” Alice shuddered - she couldn’t hear Frank anymore. “Frank took her, ‘Bastan, he took Hermione away from me and wouldn’t let me know.”
“Hermione - that’s what you called her?”
“What are you doing little brother?” Alice felt Rabastan push her away as Rodolphus walked into the room, a cruel smirk on his face.
Before she faded away in a haze of burning pain, Alice was dimly aware of Rabastan’s eyes on hers.
June 11th, 1996
His daughter was here. Heart thudding in anticipation, Rabastan glared at Antonin Dolohov, the man currently holding his daughter up by her hair. The redheaded chit he was holding, a Weasley, no doubt, was yelling.
His daughter was quiet - he could see her shaking from here, but she didn’t plead, didn’t beg.
Her hair, a riotous mass of brown curls, reminded him of Alice, but it was her eyes that captivated him. They were his eyes, looking back out at him from the face of his daughter. “Hermione...” He breathed out the name quietly, sure that no one would hear him over the Weasley bint’s yelling.
His daughter.
[x] Reviews are much appreciated!
Category: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Hermione Granger, Rabastan Lestrange, Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, Ron, Fred, George & Ginny Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling & Bloomsbury, et al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,520 words
Spoilers: PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
Summary: In the midst of war, she is about to discover long hidden secrets. When her world turns upside down, Hermione finds that she may have to make a choice - her friends ... or her family?
Notes: May contain spoilers for all books, but the fic starts off during 5th year and will spin AU. Written for the Cliche Challenge at Granger Enchanted
... don’t want to reach for me do you ... i mean nothing to you ... the little things give you away ... and now there will be no mistaking ... the levees are breaking ...
- The Little Things Give You Away, Linkin Park (Minutes to Midnight)
December 31st, 1978
She thought that maybe she was a little drunk - there was a nice haze over her vision and her belly was pleasantly warm from the butterbeer she’d been drinking all night. Alice Burke stared down at the scarred surface of the bar and sighed - this wasn’t how she had thought she’d be spending New Years Eve.
Alone. Miserable.
She toyed with the ring on her finger, the soft gold of the engagement ring dull in the dim lighting. They’d fought, yet again, about Frank’s mother. Augusta Longbottom seemed to be unable to keep her bloody nose out of her son’s love life - mother or not, Frank had better stand his ground soon, or Alice was gone.
Still, maybe she should have kept quiet until after New Years.
“Fancy seeing a girl like you here in a place like this.” Alice started as the husky voice slid over her skin, and spun around, her hand reaching down for her wand.
“Lestrange.” Brown eyes wary, Alice watched him slide uninvited into the seat next to her. Rabastan Lestrange was tall, dark, handsome and a Death Eater. Oh, the MLE had no proof, nothing substantial, but all the Auror’s knew the truth - the Lestrange brothers were right up there with Malfoy and Snape in Voldemort’s inner circle.
“Alice.” He smirked then, in a slow sensuous turn of lips that had Alice’s stomach clenching. They’d been friends of a sort, once. In third year Arithmancy, they’d been the only non-Ravenclaw’s in the class - and since the majority of the ‘claws had been uppity gits, the two had formed an uneasy truce. After all, the feuding between the Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s had been worst in Frank’s year, the rivalry between the Marauders and Snape surpassing anything that the third years had been able to come up with.
“What do you want?” Alice blinked as his dark eyes raked over her. His gaze promised nothing, told her everything. She shivered in response, her own eyes darkening. His hand lifted slowly, sliding whisper soft over her riotous curls. Alice could feel the blood rushing through her veins to settle on her cheeks, the once steady rhythm of her heartbeat speeding to an unsteady staccato beat. Rabastan shifted closer to her, angling his head so that his lips were a mere hairsbreadth away. You’re engaged, a part of Alice screamed when she didn’t move away.
The first touch of his lips on hers silenced the hazy thought - it was like sinking into molasses, she thought. Soft, but overwhelming, the sensation drawing her in until she pulled away, gasping.
“Happy New Years, Alice.”
She could only watch as he sauntered out of the bar - and then she was up and following him before her mind had caught up to her.
“Rabastan!” She caught up to him, spinning him around. They stared at each other before Alice sighed, her mind whispering a thousand apologies to Frank as she tugged his head down to meet hers.
There was nothing soft about this kiss - his arms banded around her body, crushing her torso to his as his lips slanted over hers, demanding entrance. A low moan left her lips as she curled her fingers into his long hair, his tongue taking advantage and sliding inside her mouth to rub against hers. Her head started to spin as one kiss melted into two, and then another and another until they were standing with their forehead’s pressed together, breathless.
“Happy New Year.” Her voice broke the silence, followed by a low chuckle, and then they were silent once more, staring at each other. Alice’s eyes widened as she felt the familiar sensation of her body folding in on itself - a second later, the street was empty, the loud cracking sound that accompanied apparition fading into silence.
September 19th, 1979
Alice Longbottom, nee Burke, stared down at the little baby in her arms and cried. Her baby, her little baby girl - little Hermione with hair that resembled hers and eyes that really didn’t. A choked sob left her lips as her eyes met Frank’s. Her husband looked torn - she knew this couldn’t be easy on him either, but Merlin, this was her baby.
“I’m sorry Alice - but you know that it has to be this way. If he ever thought - if he ever found out -” Frank cut himself off, pressing his lips together to fight the nausea. Hermione should have been his - but she wasn’t, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He could keep her safe though, keep her out of this bloody war.
He pressed a kiss to Alice’s forehead and carefully gathered little Hermione into his arms, whispering a soft goodbye.
July 31st, 1980
“It’s too early, Frank, it’s too early!” Alice’s voice rose as she clutched the bed sheets in her hands, groaning as she rode out the contraction.
“I know sweetie,” Frank whispered, running a cool washcloth over her face. “Hush, Alice, it’ll all be alright.”
Six hours later, watching Alice cradle Neville to her breast, Frank listened in horror as Albus Dumbledore told them of a prophecy.
Their little boy.
Alice looked down at her son, thinking that he looked so small. He’d come too early, nearly an entire month before she was due, and she couldn’t help but wish that he’d just held on a little longer, just one more month.
One more month, and there’d have been no chance of him being the boy in the prophecy. It was cowardly to wish it, she knew - but it didn’t stop her.
November 12th, 1981
She could hear Frank screaming, his voice hoarse, over the sound of Bellatrix laughing. Alice stared into dark eyes, his face hidden behind the ghastly mask. Neville slept soundly in the cot behind her, protected from the heart wrenching sounds.
“Hello Alice.”
Her heart sped into staccato, Alice closing her eyes as memories flitted through her mind. The rough calluses on his wand hand as it slid over her skin, the soft pressure of his mouth at her breast, the solid weight of him when he lay over her.
“Rabastan.” She said it softly, wincing as Frank’s voice filled the room once more.
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled grimly, eyes filled with knowledge. “But you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you.”
Her body tensed as his mouth formed the words, a scream erupting from her lips as the curse tore her nerves apart. Merlin, pleasepleasemakeitstop, stop, please. Alice fell to the floor, scream after scream tearing from her mouth - and then, blessed silence. Rabastan lifted his wand, kneeling down to hold her chin his hands.
“You have to mean the curse, you know.” He said it almost conversationally - Alice stared up at him, trying to make sense of his words amidst the clamouring of her shredded nerves. “The Unforgivables - any one can say the words, but you have to mean the words, and let me tell you Alice, it takes a lot of effort to hate someone that much.”
She moaned in response, a blanket of pain settling over her vision. Everything hurt.
“I’m surprised actually - that I could actually cast it on you.” He tilted his head, and ran his hand soothingly over her curls. “I didn’t think I could, actually,” his hand clenched into her hair, and his voice hardened. “But then again, you did take my child away from me.”
Fear, like nothing she’d known overtook her. “Yo - you knew?”
He laughed, the sound chilling. “Of course I knew.” She groaned as he tugged at her. “Where is she, Alice?”
“I don’t know.” Her lips were bleeding, she realized vaguely.
“Don’t lie to me!”
“I’m not - I don’t know where she is.” Alice shuddered - she couldn’t hear Frank anymore. “Frank took her, ‘Bastan, he took Hermione away from me and wouldn’t let me know.”
“Hermione - that’s what you called her?”
“What are you doing little brother?” Alice felt Rabastan push her away as Rodolphus walked into the room, a cruel smirk on his face.
Before she faded away in a haze of burning pain, Alice was dimly aware of Rabastan’s eyes on hers.
June 11th, 1996
His daughter was here. Heart thudding in anticipation, Rabastan glared at Antonin Dolohov, the man currently holding his daughter up by her hair. The redheaded chit he was holding, a Weasley, no doubt, was yelling.
His daughter was quiet - he could see her shaking from here, but she didn’t plead, didn’t beg.
Her hair, a riotous mass of brown curls, reminded him of Alice, but it was her eyes that captivated him. They were his eyes, looking back out at him from the face of his daughter. “Hermione...” He breathed out the name quietly, sure that no one would hear him over the Weasley bint’s yelling.
His daughter.
[x] Reviews are much appreciated!