Hi everyone!

Here I am, with a new fiction, freely inspired by Outlander and Harry Potter. I'm French, so I apologize for my English, I know it's not perfect but I'm trying hard.

I don't own anything, of course!

I hope you'll enjoy it, have fun and let me a review. It's supposed to be a try, but if you like it, I'm willing to go on!

XXX

Loch Fannich, Scotland, 1945.

She had to suppress a yawn when he started babbling about how old this castle was, about how mysterious was its history, about how much he wanted to find some answers by exploring the ruins. She didn't mind, in fact she loved history, and this part of Scotland had indeed a huge part of mystery in its one. It was just that… She felt ashamed each time she thought about it. Viktor, her fiancé, was surely kind and brilliant… But there was something with his voice, something monotonous, something…boring. She felt a pang of guilt as soon as the thought went across her mind, so she tried to remain attentive as he exposed her some dark story about presumed witches being burned in this very same place. She let her eyes wander along the dark and damp stones, the destroyed towers covered with green moss of what was probably the biggest castle in the surroundings. It must have been beautiful and mighty, overhanging a lake with so many shades of blue that it seemed different every day. She thought about the people who lived there, centuries ago. What did they look like? What did make them laugh or cry? What were their dreams? Their fears?

"Are you even listening to me?"

She looked at him, a bit startled. He was gently smiling at her, with an obvious tenderness in his dark eyes. She felt another pang of guilt. Viktor was wonderful. She was aware that he was doing his best to make her happy. They knew each other for so many years, since they were child. Everybody was expecting them to get married, and Viktor, perfect and serious and kind Viktor, proposed her after only six month of courting. She had hesitated, but there were all these eyes on them, their friends, their family, her parents… She had said yes, she had seen his smile, he didn't smile a lot, but that day, he was smiling, truly smiling, and she had convinced herself that she had made the right choice. He was kind, brilliant, good-looking, tall, well built, with beautiful black hair and deep brown eyes. He worked with his father, he was rich and cultivated, he was everything a woman could wish for… At least, that was what her mother told her the day of their engagement party, when she saw her daughter's hesitation. And it was true, all the girls were found of Viktor, some of them were so jealous of her that she even lost some friends. Well, she thought they were friends… obviously, not that much…

Their life was supposed to be perfect. Perfect house. Perfect family. Hermione was smart, probably too intelligent for her own good. She wanted to be a doctor, but everybody was laughing at her, as if the single idea of a woman attending to long studies was ridiculous. She hated how smug and condescending were people around her when she told them about her project. Viktor didn't have much of an opinion, he just shrugged and told her that as long as it made her happy, it was okay with him, but then, she had heard him told her cousin that of course, she was going to be a house wife and to raise their children. She had to swallow the urge to punch him straight in the face. Yes, their life was supposed to be perfect for him.

And then, something happened. The war happened. She had left to be a nurse, he had left to fight. They had survived but they were no longer the same. She had realized that she loved him, but as a friend, not as her future husband. She didn't know what to do with that realization. He was obviously still in love with her. But he was also a broken man. He refused to tell her what he had been through during the war, but she could see how lost he seemed to be sometimes, she could see all those ghosts haunting his eyes. Could she break his heart like that?

"Hermione? Is everything okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, sorry, I was lost in my thoughts!"

She smiled at him, hoping that her distress was not on her face. He returned her smile and showed her a drawing he had made.

"It's very beautiful, Viktor, really…" she said gently.

"We should go back to the car, it's going to rain…"

"Of course it is, we're in Scotland" she replied with a sigh, raising her hands to tame her wild hair. Humidity was a nightmare, she loved Scoltand but she hated the way her curls were untamable.

They made their way to the car, in a comfortable silence. It was a good thing Viktor was so quiet sometimes, it allowed her to get lost in her own thoughts. And to admire the amazing landscapes of Scotland. Everything was so green, so wild, so…magical… Viktor's love for history brought them in many places, but her favorite was this small corner of Scotland. It was as if time had stopped here, people were kind and welcoming, yet secret and mysterious, as if they were aware of something ignored by the whole world. And if London still bore the stigmata of the war, it was as if this place, out of time, had been protected in some way.

They had twenty minutes to reach the car, but she didn't mind. She loved the feel of the wind playing with her hair, she loved how she felt, free and wild, her lungs burning with the cold air. It was crisp, cool, clean and invigorating. Her shoes were covered with mud, as rain began to pour. Viktor walked faster, she didn't try to follow him, she put her hand in her pocket, and found a scarf in it. It wasn't going to save her hair but at least, it was going to protect her. She took it but as she wanted to put it on her head, it slipped between her fingers and the wind carried it away.

"Dash it! Come here!" she mumbled, turning on her heels.

The wind was blowing stronger by the minute, and something in the way it was sounding in her ears made her shiver. It was like a whisper, as if someone was murmuring her name in the wind, repeatedly.

"Hermione!" Viktor shouted.

He looked so small in the distance; he was already next to the car and calling her.

"Coming!" she shouted back, trying to ignore the strange feeling she had with each step bringing her closer to the castle.

The scarf was flying higher, she ran to catch it, penetrating into the ruins. Viktor shouting something like "be careful with the stairs", she waved to him, and as she went farther in the castle, she couldn't see him anymore.

"Damn you…" she muttered as she saw the scarf at the top of the said stairs.

She sighed. The stairs seemed okay to her, but Viktor had told her that most of them were eaten away by humidity. A sign was forbidding the access. But she was small, and quite thin, maybe she could try… The scarf had been offered by her future mother in law, and as she was thinking about breaking her son's heart, Hermione felt as if she had a duty to this scarf. She bit her lower lip pensively, as the scarf rocked in the wind, hung on at the top of the bannister.

Her hair were dripping wet, and she was shivering with cold. She was only wearing a blue dress and a light green coat.

She put a hand on the bannister and the foot on the first stair.

"Hermione…"

She could hear it distinctly this time. The voice of a man, breathing her name in the wind, it was so close and yet so far. She felt like an electric shock coursing along her arm and her heart began to beat furiously in her rib cage. The ruins were spinning, she felt suddenly nauseous, she wanted to scream, to call Viktor for help, but her tongue seemed to be so heavy in her mouth.

She had the impression that the ground collapsed under her feet and swallowed her.

And the world went black.