ARA

II.

"Come along dear," Narcissa clipped. "Hurry up now, he doesn't have all day."

Hermione jumped up off the chair and followed her down the hall, and another hall, and another hall, and yet another. They were all damp, dark, and dreary. Hermione's heels clicked down the cobbled floors, her hand ran across the similarly cobbled walls. She felt out of place in such a somber place, her hair was too ornate, her dress too grand, her jewels much too opulent. She swore she could hear whispers and murmurs in the dim space around her. At the end of the halls they met with a man she recognized: Lucius Malfoy. "Cissy darling, is she ready?" Lucius questioned.

"Of course, Lucius. I would never disappoint our lord like that." Narcissa responded. Hermione's eyes drifted to him. She shouldn't have been so shocked to see him; she was standing next to his wife afterall. He took notice of her staring.

"Is there something wrong with her?" He snapped at her. "Snap out of it girl." She flinched at the unexpected noise.

"Sorry... Sorry sir," Hermione looked away.

"Never mind that, follow me, child." She followed Lucius into a dimly lit room covered in satin and silk cloths and curtains. He gestured his arm for her to take it. "You know he is over-joyed to see you again, child."

"And... who is he exactly?" Her voice sped. "I mean sir, you and Narcissa have both mentioned a 'he' a few times and I have no idea what-so-ever who he is."

"He shall answer that for himself." They stopped infront of a raised sofa, on it resided a curious white scrawny infant-like being. Its face was snake-like, its head the size of a man's. "The girl, my lord."

"Thank you Lucius, my friend." The thing hissed in a painful way. The sound was sore and brittle. The creature appeared frail like one wrong touch could shatter it like porcelain. "Is she truely Ara? She does look quite like Isadore."

"A drop of her blood is the only way we shall be certain, my lord." Lucius returned. "I take it you would like to know as soon as possible? We are able to, at this moment, allow me to call for my wife." Narcissa strode into the room. Hermione stayed silent, contemplating what in the world was occurring in front of her. The couple stood on either side of her, brandishing their wands. "We are ready to begin, my lord."

"Begin then, do not keep me waiting, Lucius."

"Of course, my lord." Lucius pulled a small book from his jacket pocket. "Let us commence, darling." He flipped through the pages and began. "Narcissa, you may slice her palm." She drew her wand and performed a painless slicing charm.

"My lord, I apologize but I will need to slice your palm as well."

"As you must, Narcissa." It responded, wiggling its hand toward her. She sliced it. Lucius began the spoken word of the ritual.

"Sanguis patris per venas prolis fluit. Palmam eius resecare, et nos veraciter cognatos suos dicere." He flipped the page. "Nunc, cum praeter patrem suum verum cognatum nobis narraverit." The blood in their palms floated into the air and combined into a deep emerald green only to fall onto the ground and soak into the floorboards. "It is complete sir."

"And what did it mean?" It snipped.

"She is your daughter, my lord."

"Excuse me, what?" Hermione was aghast. "That... that–thing is not my father. My father is Martin Granger! He, he's a muggle. For all I know that creature isn't even human, and anyone who has taken even half a biology class could tell you that simple isn't possible."

"Ara, how dare you speak to your father with such tone, I am apalled!" It yelped. "Take her to her room, deal with her."

"Of course, my lord," Narcissa said, grabbing Hermione's arm and dragging her away. "Come on, dear."

"Narcissa what is going on? Please, I need answers." Hermione begged her.

"I'll tell you what I can when we make it to your quarters, dear."

~+~

The pair walked through a set of extravagant french doors into a large bedroom. Its walls were cream and the floors dark cherry. A large mahogany four-poster bed and matching bedside cabinets on either side of it acted as a centerpiece for the room. A coordinating mahogany wardrobe stood against the wall the doors were in. A set of paned glass doors opened onto a small balcony. Hermione had never seen a bedroom so exorbitant. "These are your quarters, you may want to take a seat," Narcissa moved to the bed and sat on the edge, patting the spot next to her. "It's very comfortable." Hermione moved to her side. "Before I can tell you anything I need you to tell me everything about your life before you were brought here. I aplogise if it seems a bit invasive."

"And why exactly do I need to tell you?"

"We need to make sure that you can make a smooth and gradual transition to being Ara instead of whoever you think you are, dear," Narcissa replied simply.

"But why can't I just be Hermione?"

"Thank you, that's a first name. You can't be Hermione because you're not Hermione, simply put of course." Narcissa said in a false dulcet tone. "If it makes you feel better you don't need to tell me the names of anyone but the people who raised you and the people who took you to the world cup."

"Will anything happen to them? I mean... I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"We just need to know how to make Hermione What-ever-her-surname-is disappear. We won't hurt anyone."

"Why do I need to disappear? Why can't I just go on a long holiday or somrthing?"

"Safety reasons, we need to make sure there's no plot holes."

"Promise me you won't hurt anyone."

"On my father, dear"

"Fine. My name is Hermione Granger. My parents are Martin and Bonnie Granger," Her brows furrowed. "And Arthur Weasley brought me to the cup. That's all I want to tell you." She snipped

"Very well, thank you Ara. Why don't you change into a nightdress and rest for the night? I'll see to you in the morning," She paused and slowly lowered her head. "I apologize if I've seemed cold, I must follow orders." She smiled weakly and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Hermione thought it best to do what Narcissa recommended and looked in the wardrobe for a nightgown. She pulled out a white cotton dress with a few ruffles and changed into it. She was anxious about sleeping in an unfamiliar place, she didn't even know where she was. When she pulled the duvet over her body and layed her head on the feather pillow the room around her dissipated into darkness.