Disclaimer: All recognizable Harry Potter characters, places, etc. belong to JK Rowling. The recognizable Stargate characters, place, etc. belong to MGM, Scifi and the creators Jonathan Glassner and Brad Wright.
A/N: This story in cannon compliant thru most of DH, but has slight differences which will become clear over the corse of the story. This is the second story in the New Life series. I would also like to thank my beta Periculum for all her help with this story.
She could hear shrieking. It kept getting louder and louder. Who was making that awful noise? It wasn't until she was gasping for air through her abused throat that she realized that she had been the one screaming.
"Where did you and your blood-traitor friends get that sword from? How did you get into my vault? TELL ME, you filthy Mudblood Bitch!" snarled the form of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Tears were leaking out of her eyes as she continued to twitch on the floor. "I-I don't know what your t-talk-ing about."
"LIAR!" With a vicious jab of her wand the pain came back, burning along her nerves.
Fire. She was on fire. "AhhhhhhhhhhhAAAhhhhhAAAAHHHH HHHHH!" The spell ended, leaving her heaving on the floor. As her body ceased to convulse she let her head momentarily rest on the cool tile. Glimpsing the mess she had made Hermione could make out the swirling flecks of blood amongst the yellow bile. For a brief unbalanced moment she wondered how much Lucius had spent on the tiles.
Bellatrix forcibly brought her attention back to the present by grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her head back, bringing a silver dagger to rest at her throat. "TELL ME!"
Hermione jerked awake and scrambled out of bed, grasping for her wand. It wasn't there. As the realization washed over her that it was just a dream, she found herself sinking to the floor as the adrenaline left her system.
Unexpectedly she was seized by the familiar tremors originating in her extremities. In response she tried to slow her breathing before it could escalate into a full-on attack. Dry sobbing with her head buried into the mattress for a few minutes, she rode out the pain before attempting to stand. She walked slowly around her bedroom, testing her legs to see if they were steady. Once she was satisfied they wouldn't give out she made her way through her new flat into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.
Easing onto a stool, she finally glanced at the clock. sighed, knowing that she wouldn't sleep again tonight. She sat, momentarily lost in her thoughts, letting the warmth of the mug seep into her hands.
Maybe it had been a bad idea to come here.
The stress of the last month, combined with the cooler climate, had brought on relapses she hadn't worried about in years. Not that she wasn't use to living in cooler environments, but she had been living in more temperate areas for years and had become acclimatized to the warmer weather. Colorado Springs was rather pleasant, especially now that summer was finally arriving, but in the early mornings she could still feel the chilled wind coming off the mountains. She still suffered from an occasional bout of painful tremors, a side effect of having the Crucio cast on her during the war. Normally she could pass them off as sudden migraines and ride out the pain, but at times an attack could escalate, seizing up her limbs for several minutes and leaving her trembling and weak. Since she had accepted this new job she had experienced two severe attacks in the past month compared to the four in the last seven years. Even then it had been a full three years since she had undergone one, they were supposed to decrease with time.
Glancing at the stacks of files adoring her dining room table, which had been provided to bring her up to date on the Stargate Program, she once again sighed. What had she gotten herself into?
Hermione had spent the last month in a controlled panic as she had recovered from being shot; finished out her remaining quarter teaching; organized her move to the U.S.; dealt with family and friends questioning her sanity for working for the military; sat through debriefings, security checks and psych evaluations, all while having her total outlook on history turned on its head again. It was worse than when she had first discovered she was a witch and had to adjust to a whole new world being opened up to her. Back then she had known she was different than other kids and welcomed the new experience. The existence of aliens had completely blind-sided her, and those reports where completely amazing stable wormholes, space ships, black holes, parallel worlds, robots, false gods...it terrified her. She had been in this place before - on the threshold of a new world filled with new possibilities - and she had barely survived it. Now that she was older and hopefully wiser, maybe she would be able to protect herself better, but at times like these with her dreams still haunting her thoughts she didn't know if she was willing to risk herself again.
Having finished her tea, she rinsed the mug and went to take a shower and get dressed for the day. She dressed in a simple blouse, trousers and shoes, and studied her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was still a curly mess most of the time, but it had lost much of its uncontrollable frizziness over the years, picking up natural highlights from her time spent outdoors. Pulling the mass into a tight bun reminiscent of her old Transfiguration professor, served to make her features appear more severe than they were. What little baby fat she still possessed had been lost during the Horcrux hunt and the intervening years had left her more active than the schoolgirl she had been. She wasn't by any means the athlete Ginny was, who had been a professional Chaser for several years before she and Harry had tied the knot the several summers ago, but she had developed the habit of jogging three times a week if she had the time, or swimming a few laps at a local pool. Her skin had remained true to her English heritage, a pale ivory unmarred by her years in the desert. In her opinion, she would give not too bad a first impression on her first official day of working in the mountain.
Gathering together her supplies for the day, Hermione made her way into her second bedroom, which she had fashioned into an office, to check her computer for any emails. Her wizarding friends still sent her owls, but anyone in the Muggle world who wanted to keep in touch would know to reach her electronically. Breezing through the pop-up ads, she found a couple updates to archaeological journals she subscribed to, a request to help in a translation from an old classmate and a quick message from her parents. Starting with the request, she looked at the attached picture of an iron belt buckle covered in Celtic runes, which was a simple warding against the lure of the faery folk. Once she had composed her response, adding some general enquiries about recent activities, Hermione moved onto the next message, having printed out a copy of the buckle for her records in case the find became something more at a later point (it had happened before).
Skipping her parents' message for the moment, she engrossed herself in the new articles published in the updated journals to pass the time until she had to leave. Finishing up she saw that it was now 6:18. She wasn't suppose to report in until seven o'clock, but she thought it might be prudent to leave early in case something came up; in any event, she didn't think she could wait any longer. Double checking to make sure if she had everything, Hermione then left the apartment, grabbing a muffin on the way out, to calm her nervous stomach.
She carefully drove her freshly purchased used Toyota pickup out of the driveway and onto the road. If she could face down Voldemort and his Death Eaters, she could face whatever they threw at her.
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Captain Simmons pulled into his usual parking space just in time to glimpse an attractive woman exiting her truck in the employee lot and head into the mountain. She didn't look familiar, and judging by the casual civvies she wore, she wasn't some bureaucrat coming to cause trouble. Exiting his vehicle, he made his way into the mountain up to the first checkpoint, following the woman's lead. He watched curiously as she handed over her credentials and was escorted by a waiting airman to the lifts.
Turning his attention back to the guard station, he glimpsed the brief look the guard had been directing at the mystery woman. The Sergeant was obviously embarrassed at being caught in his examination of the retreating figure. Simmons lifted an eyebrow in a silent query, which the guard answered, "Dr. Granger, the new archaeologist Dr. Jackson hired, sir."
Recalling the recent memo which had made its way around the base about Jackson's trip to Egypt and the new Goa'uld Osiris, Simmons replied, "The one he, Carter and Frasier ran into outside of Cairo?"
"That's the one, sir" the guard confirmed with a slight smirk.
Also seeing the humor, Simmons let the smile on his face grow just a bit more. The SGC rumor mill had been abuzz about the newest addition to the staff for the past month. Everyone wanted to meet this woman who had so impressed Dr. Jackson that he had convinced the brass to hire her on the spot as his self-proclaimed protégée. They also wanted to see what kind of person could get the unflappable Major Carter so riled up about a simple background check. It had been a constant source of amusement for Colonel O'Neill, who'd been having a field day teasing her about it.
Breaking his reprieve with an observation clearly meant not to be heard, the Sergeant murmured, "She sure doesn't look like a science geek."
Nodding in absentminded agreement, Simmons continued on his way through the check-in stand. Most of the base's personnel had been expecting the new doctor to be just as bookish as the rest of the scientists populating the base. Judging by the reactions she had received thus far, Dr. Granger was sure to cause a stir amongst the predominantly male staff with those curves today. Stepping into the lift, Simmons found himself already liking the new doctor; she would provide some much needed drama for the masses, something always fun to watch.
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Pain.
Confusion.
Blackness.
What was going on?
Where was he?
The thud of boots hitting grating. "Welcome home SG-3."
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"Thank you, I will be right up," Daniel said into the phone before hanging up. Grabbing his mug of coffee and a box containing back-logged mission reports, he made his way toward the door to go meet up with Dr. Granger. She had arrived early for their meeting and had been directed to a conference room in the upper-levels of the underground base. As he walked out the door, he was startled by the approaching figure of his teammate Jack O'Neill, barely managing to stop before he ran him over.
"Wow, where're you going, Danny-boy?" inquired Jack, stepping into the office and plopping himself into a spare chair.
Shifting his load, Daniel replied, "I'm off to meet Dr. Granger on level twelve."
Feigning shock, Jack clutched his chest in a dramatic gesture. "You mean your mystery woman has finally arrived? Here I was thinking you and Carter had made her up."
Looking at the clock, Daniel could tell that he was likely going to be late. Sighing, he replied in a resigned tone, trying not to encourage his teammate. "Yes, Jack." It wasn't that Jack didn't know that his new addition to the staff was starting today after a months postponement; it was just a chance to get on his nerves. Since he had hired Hermione, Daniel had kept in contact to bring her up to speed on the various cultures and languages which had been encountered since the SGC had started, and to his delight Hermione had shown a surprising aptitude in picking up the information. Despite the problems in getting her through the background checks and red tape to gain clearance for her employment, Daniel felt that it would be well worth the investment.
Sitting forward in his seat Jack dropped the light atmosphere, his demeanor becoming more serious. "So she finally passed the last of the psych evaluations?"
Daniel couldn't help but bristle at the question. Steeling his voice, he ground out, "Yes, she passed all of the ridiculously unnecessary tests you and Sam concocted." Jack may joke about Sam's distrust of Hermione, but he had made no objection to the barrage of evaluations, tests and background checks she insisted on putting her through after convincing the General to allow her more than the initial few days she had originally been granted. With the questionable history which had been uncovered it had been decided the best way to get to the truth was to have Hermione see a psychiatrist to see if she fit the profile of a operative or someone suffering from PTSD
from what had sent her into witness protection in the first place.
Cocking an eyebrow Jack asked, "What does Carter say about that?"
"She still can't find any proof that Dr. Granger is anything other than what she says she is. When will you two be satisfied that there is nothing to find?"
"Danny, she was being recruited to be a God-damned spook," said an exasperated Jack.
"They were interested in her language abilities, just like we are." Why couldn't his team see that? For the past month Daniel had been having this same conversation with both his teammates, whose military mind-set had placed them on guard of anyone who could be considered a potential threat. In Daniel's opinion it had gone past ridiculous around the time Sam had been arranging a polygraph test to be administered two weeks ago.
Jack ran a hand through his hair. "That may just be what they want you to think. I know that you think this woman could be of great assistance in your department, and I know that you have been looking for someone who could run the place in case anything were to happen to you, but you need to be careful. Look, I've had some experience in dealing with these types of groups back in my black-ops days and you just can't trust anything you see or read. That information Carter found could be deliberately misleading and I don't need to remind you that this is the most highly classified secret the U.S. has. I'm sorry, but we had to be sure she can be trusted."
Daniel sighed again, letting some of his anger abate, knowing that Jack had a point. "I see your point, but I've kept in touch with her for the past month and she's exactly the type of person were looking for. She not only figured out the existence of aliens by herself, but managed to hold her own in an altercation against a Goa'uld. Sam has examined her background with a fine-tooth comb, and she has gone through the psych evaluations as well; if there was something to find it would have been found. Sam is probably just frustrated her computer skills couldn't find anything quicker."
Daniel waited for Jack to argue some more, but was surprised by the contemplative expression he wore. "Is that really what this is about?"
Daniel was confused by the abrupt subject change. "Uh, what do you mean?"
Standing, Jack gave him a measured look. "It's just that Share has been gone for a while now and-"
Seeing what Jack was implying, Daniel quickly cut him off. "Jack, I'm not interested in Dr. Granger." He was shocked that the thought had even crossed his friends mind. Before Jack could continue to press his ludicrous point, he quickly reiterated the sentiment. "I'm not." He did not want to continue the conversation. "Look, I need to go. I'm already late for my meeting."
Quickly leaving his lab and teammate, Daniel found his mind racing. He wasn't even sure what to think. Analyzing his actions for the past month, he couldn't understand why Jack would think he was interested in Hermione. Well maybe he could. For the past month, the topic of Hermione Granger had come up rather frequently, generally involving him defending her against Sam's suspicions. Also he had been spending a great deal of his free time on the phone with the woman. Thinking about it, he knew that he had been acting off since finding Sarah had been possessed, and had found talking to Hermione easier than to his teammates. It wasn't an attraction to the doctor, not that she wasn't appealing; it was just that they both had known Sarah, had been able to bond over the common loss. They had similar interests so it was only natural.
Jack was just reading more into it than there was. Trying to clear his thoughts as he approached the meeting room, Daniel shifted the box's weight onto his other arm and reached for the doorknob.