Hello fellow humans,
This is me being a sucker for ridiculous crossovers. And not only I loved the idea of Hermione Granger and Morgana Pendragon meeting but also I imagined them as Emma Watson and Katie Mcgrath who, let's be honest, should totally work together.
Anyway I don't own the characters, if I did, I'd turn this into some sort of lesbian version of Dramione, oops.
So this is my very first one-shot, I hope I did them justice. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, so leave a comment or find me on twitter skylabluthor.
I hope you enjoy it :)
Green. That's all she could think of. Dark green. That's all she was surrounded by.
Hermione woke up, feeling dizzy and disoriented. She looked around and saw nothing but ancient trees standing proudly, leaves dancing on the tree tops and flying around creating some kind of uncoordinated dance that, Hermione thought, she could spend the whole summer watching. Summer. The same breeze that made the leaves dance, the same breeze that was making her shiver, along with the washed-out green of those very same trees told her otherwise. It was autumn.
'The time turner works...' She said to herself. 'I fixed it. I did it!'
She looked around again, even beneath the moon's pale light it looked like the exact same spot she was at less than an hour ago, the Forest of Dean. Frowning, she realized she had never been there in autumn. She knew this place too well to be afraid or to feel like an outsider but for some reason the forest alone brought so many sad memories that she didn't need any more grief, everything felt so... strange. She was there, but she wasn't.
She knew where she was, but she did not know what moment of the infinite possibilities in time she had gone to.
'Where's the time turner?' She whispered.
'Looking for this?' A deep voice said.
Hermione turned around abruptly. Standing right behind her a woman was holding her time turner.
She looked quite amused, as if she could hear Hermione's thoughts and knew she did not know where she was, yet there was something else, distrust? curiosity? whatever it was, something told Hermione that it wasn't good. She needed to get out of there, quickly.
Seeing that Hermione was still startled and immerse in her own thoughts, she got closer and spoke again.
'I have never seen such a... curious artefact before. I presume this is what brought you here, am I correct?' One step after the other, threatening, mischievous, if the way the woman seemed to carry herself was anything to go by. Her intense gaze never left hers, does she not blink? Hermione nods despite the shock.
'One of my friends accidently broke it, I- I was right here trying to fix it and I ended up...' she looked around again, as if something could have changed in the past five minutes that could give away her exact location. As expected, she tried in vain. 'What year is it?'
The woman laughed.
'I should have known, you're a time traveller.'
It was rather obvious that Hermione wasn't from that time, her blue jeans and blue sneakers, along a blouse that perfectly matched her skin colour, Morgana had never seen a woman dressed like that, to say she found the other woman who had just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night was an understatement.
Hermione was about to protest when the sound of horses and blades filled her ears followed by a man shouting 'this way!' was that an army? growing louder. Oh no, what if she had somehow ended up in times of Voldemort again? What if this woman along with the army coming that way were Lord Voldemort's followers. Could she be a Death Eater? Would she kill her as soon as she knew who Hermione was? She needed a plan, she needed...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the woman, who took Hermione by the wrist and dragged her to some sort of refuge behind the trunk of a fallen, old tree to hide as the knights passed. Given their proximity, Hermione took that moment to appreciate the woman standing next to her. She reminded her of someone, her black dress covered with a long black cape, her dark black hair... for a moment flashbacks of being at the Malfoy Manor threatened to come to the surface and she could almost feel the pain, the exhaustion, the humiliation a Death Eater had put her through. But then she realized, that there was no wooden floor under her feet, instead, there was this soft ground covered in autumn leaves which the moonlight could not reach, and the warmth of the body next to her wasn't unwelcome, foreign perhaps, but it didn't make her fear for her life. When she looked up, she found the reason why the presence next to her could never compare to a Death Eater: she saw a face as gentle as the warmest summer night in contrast with her pale skin, as white as this very same forest during the coldest winter day.
Minutes must have passed because the woman was now looking at her expectantly, and those eyes, as green as the forest she'd come to memorize over the years, were warm and deep and also so, so distant, but for some reason Hermione thought that suddenly the cold dark night wasn't so terrible after all.
Everything became silent again, she felt the woman relax, and now she could also sense the weight of all the things unsaid. Who was she? She hasn't given her the time turner back and she needed to go back home. She knew everything would be just the same in her time, not a minute would have passed and still she couldn't help the feeling of distress growing more noticeable and anxious in her chest.
'My time turner, I need you to give it back, please. I need to go back to my time.' Hermione said taking a few steps back.
'I'm afraid I can't give it back to you, you see I believe this is exactly what I need to finally erase my dear brother from this world once and for all.'
Hermione took two steps back, looking for her wand in her pocket. This was it. The odd feeling of unsafety yet...
'Who are you? What's your name?' Hermione asked.
The woman who was examining the time turner looked at her, right into Hermione's brown eyes as if she was staring at my soul.
'I'm Lady Morgana.' She wasn't used to the feeling of people not knowing who she was, that was crystal clear to Hermione.
'Morgana... As in Morgana Pendragon?' The woman raised a perfect eyebrow and smirked.
'So you do know who I am. And who are you, may I ask?' She said amused.
'My name's Hermione, Hermione Granger. I come from another time and you should not... play with that. Please, give it to me. I shouldn't be here, not to mention speaking with you.'
At least Voldemort didn't exist yet.
'Now, Ms. Granger I believe this is not the way you should be speaking to the person who has your fate in her hands, is it?'
This was bad. Morgana Pendragon, the woman who had spent so many years trying to kill King Uther and then Arthur Pendragon was right in front of her, holding her time turner and considering using it to change the events in Camelot. How could you be so reckless, Hermione? She scolded herself.
Her mind went back to what happened not so long ago, the way her presence felt like some sort of reassurance rather than a threat, the gentleness of her touch. If all those years in Hogwarts had taught her anything was that there is always something hidden underneath. There is more to people than the stories about them. There are seasons and those reasons are most likely built on pain. She thought of Tom Riddle, a young boy whose family neglected, who never knew love or compassion. She thought of Draco Malfoy, who was forced to make bad choices until the Draco Malfoy in him was reduced to a sad consequence of his actions. She thought of herself, she was more than just the four minute rambling of the Sorting Hat in her first year at Hogwarts, there was insecurity behind the books she read, fear behind her bravery, selfishness behind casting a charm on her parents to protect them.
Morgana Pendragon was the living image of Hermione's worst fears after fighting Voldemort. Five years later on the memories still haunted her. But Morgana's eyes... She saw fear in them, she saw despair and she saw kindness. They were cold, yes, but there was no hate in them, she knew that instantly. The Morgana Pendragon in front of her was not the evil witch she had read about. The Morgana in front of her was... human. Real.
I wonder when you lost your humanity.
'I know who you are, Morgana.' She tried again. 'I don't know you, I simply know your story, a story I'm not allowed to tell. But I know what you stand for, and what you fight for. This is not the way.'
Something in Morgana's eyes changed and for a moment Hermione could not focus on anything else. She took a step closer, forcing Hermione to take one back.
'You have no idea what my life is like.' Another step closer, another step back.
'You may think you do' Morgana continued 'I have no interest in knowing what your version of the story says about me and the great Uther and Arthur Pendragon and their nobility.' Another step closer, another step back. So much resentment.
'You do not know what it's like, to feel left out in absolute darkness, to feel unloved, rejected. How could you know? Wherever you come from, I can assure you things are not the way they are here in Camelot.' Hermione's back hit a tree, Morgana was centimetres away from her. She hasn't felt this proximity since... 'You haven't been through what I have. You don't know what it's like to be the only one who sees the things in you that you cannot hide, and hate everybody else for despising what you've become.'
'You know nothing about me.' The Hermione who wanted to give Morgana the benefit of the doubt was only seconds away from being gone, but who counts the time anyway?
'Where I come from, there was a war years ago. A boy who was destined to save the world defeated the darkest wizard of all time. His name was... He was...' How much could she tell? Oh but Morgana was listening to her so carefully, and she has never opened up before. After all these years Harry and Ron were too busy dealing with their own loss, she had to be strong for the three of them, she couldn't give up on Harry and Ron like she did with her family, could she? But that didn't mean it did not hurt. She felt heavy and tired, and for a moment she allowed herself to think that her loss hurt too.
Morgana was being nothing but patient with her and her story, and once again Hermione thought she was in a fairy tale rather than trapped in Morgana's evil plans to destroy the kingdom.
'The boy who was destined to save us all is my best friend. The wizard who tried to take over the world, his reasons weren't that different from yours, but his soul... there was nothing left of it, his cause was built on resentment towards those who had never showed any sign of kindness or understanding he had lost himself long before he could come to terms with who he truly was. I do know what it's like to fight for a good cause, Morgana. I erased myself from my parents' memories to protect them in times of persecution. There is this term... where I come from. Non-magical people are called 'muggles' in the wizarding world. I'm a witch, just like you are but my parents are muggles, and even there, we were seen as something less than humans, as an abomination. They called us 'mudbloods'.
Hermione remembered the feeling of that word marked in her skin as if it had never healed. She wondered if she'd ever be able to forget, she deserved it, she needed to forget.
'I know what it's like to be judged for your true nature, for something you had no say in.' She swallowed, her heart was burning, and in that moment she came to realize, at least for a minute, that all those things she had kept inside became her own demons. She saw the darkness in Morgana, but she wasn't afraid, on the contrary, it was comforting. There's something warm about darkness that under the bright light of day would make you feel exposed and vulnerable.
'How could it be wrong for a kingdom to accept people with magic?'
'We live in peace, muggles are not supposed to know about the existence of our world.'
'Uther and Artur will never accept that, and I'm here to take what's rightfully mine, the throne of Camelot.'
'We both know this is not the only thing you want from them, ma' lady. I cannot blame you, but do you think starting a reign of terror and persecution in Camelot against people who possess no magic is going to solve anything? Do you think revenge is the answer? It will only beget more violence, do you not see that?!' She needed to go back, but she couldn't leave this woman, this woman with the brightest green eyes she had ever seen, who looked her age and yet a thousand years older after everything she had suffered. How do you even measure time if it's not based on experience? Something deep down told Hermione that she had just begun to live, that she could measure her time in moments like this one, in times that she got lost in Morgana's eyes and saw her own.
'I have no one to fight for apart from myself, but I do have something to be loyal to, something King Uther and his son are so stubbornly trying to destroy. My fight is not against people with no magic. My fight is in the name of those who do have magic against the ones who forced them, us, to live in the shadows. People like us are condemned to walk the Earth unmarked, pretending to be people we're not. Tell me, Hermione Granger, have you never fought for your freedom? After everything you've just told me, do you not think that fighting for a cause you believe is right justifies any crime you commit?'
Hermione was not only trapped between the tree and Morgana but also in the weight of Morgana's words. She needed to go, but did she want to leave? Could she leave Morgana like this, planning her imminent turn to the dark side? Realization hit her that Morgana would never turn evil, and who was Hermione to judge another woman for standing against oppression?
She felt the cold breeze again, and suddenly the warmth of Morgana's body standing close to hers was gone. She allowed herself to take a deep breath and tried not to think of the implications of that. Morgana was now standing a few steps away, her gaze fixed on the river, on the trees, or somewhere in between, time turner in her left hand forgotten.
To Morgana, Hermione seemed to understand and yet, she did not know how she could be so... unwilling to help. Morgana didn't question her own cause, she questioned Hermione's sanity and integrity at first. She more than anyone, must understand that.
'Because things are never either black or withe, Morgana.' Hermione said in a low voice. She was there next to her, their arms slightly touching, which made them both feel less... lonely.
'Look around, look at how the trees and the river shine in the dark. Look at all this chaos, all this magic. There is something more powerful than the laws of a kingdom, there is something greater than a king or a queen, something that transcends our existence.' Hermione stopped staring at the exact same point Morgana seemed to be looking at, to glance at Morgana one more time.
'Prove them you're not what they think you are. What you're doing is take the easy path. You can either let your pain consume your soul, or you can take that pain and turn it into part of all that magic you carry within yourself.' Morgana wasn't looking at her, but she was listening, Hermione knew she was. 'All that loneliness you feel, I feel it too. You don't belong and no matter how loud you scream, how loud you cry, no one listens.' At this point she was looking down at her shoes, again, at the closest part of the forest where the light of the moon didn't reach. When did she start crying? She could feel Morgana's intense gaze on her, through the corner of her eyes she could tell Morgana was about to cry too. For some reason, the thought of the other witch crying made her feel even more upset.
'You're not alone, Morgana. You're not...' Her voice cracked but she had to compose herself, for both of them and the unusual situation they found themselves in.
'I believe this belongs to you.'
In that moment, Morgana thought she couldn't take this thing from Hermione. Hermione, a young witch who by accident had travelled oh so many years and ended up right where she was. Hermione, who was tearing her heart open. And who was her to take advantage of a woman who's been nothing but compassionate in spite of her own fears?
She wondered what kind of horrors Hermione had been exposed to, she could only imagine. She frowned and thought that maybe, just maybe, Hermione's appearance in Camelot meant something she hasn't felt in a long time. Hope. What if letting her emotions take over her was, like Hermione said, the easy path. Uther and Arthur would still have to pay, but using this young lady was not the answer.
Hermione looked up to see Morgana holding the time turner, offering it to her. Her mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out.
She stared into Morgana's eyes one more time, one last time.
'Thank you.' She said.
The time had come, both trying to memorize the other, just to make sure all of this had been real. To make sure that the other existed, that they existed, and for a moment they existed together.
Her eyes not leaving Morgana's, she took the time turner, pressed her hand, and the last thing she heard was a barely audible whisper "safe travels, Hermione Granger.'
Hermione found herself surrounded by a different shade of green, on what she thought would be one of the hottest days of the summer, and strangely, she found no relief in being back, and in that moment she couldn't help but think that the forest looked more beautiful under the autumn moonlight.