This story is written for the Movie Fest of the Strictly Dramione Facebook page. If you are a fan of Dramione, the Strictly Dramione page is the place to be! Go check it out.
I want to thank my lovely Beta and cheerleader Filisgare. She inspired me, motivated me, and kept me writing. Many, many thanks.
Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, all things Tangled to Disney.
xXxHermionexXx
With a sigh, Hermione looked around the circular room, wondering what to do next. To say she was bored would be an understatement. She thought her brain would shrivel and die if she didn't find anything to do any time soon.
"Perhaps without a brain I wouldn't be aware enough to actually feel bored," she mused to her cat, Crookshanks. "Now there's something to think about."
She sprawled on the newly cleaned floor and petted her beloved familiar and often only companion, as he curled himself on her stomach and started purring. The philosophical question "if one would be able to be bored without a brain" kept her occupied for a total of 15 minutes, before deciding that, no, it was not possible. Another 15 minutes were spent wondering if that was because one would simply not care, or because one would be immensely distracted by just about everything.
"I guess a lot depends on how one would define 'no brain'," she said out loud.
Crookshanks merely stretched and hopped of her stomach to lie in a patch of sun near the shelves upon shelves of books. Hermione sat up and once more looked around the room.
"When on earth will my life ever begin?" she lamented. "Nothing ever happens here, Crooks! Never! Every day is the same: get up, brush my teeth and wash my face. Clean up the kitchen, even though it has been cleaned the day before, and prepare breakfast. Clean the kitchen again. Sweep the floor and get rid of the infinitesimal amount of dust that gathered during the night. Figure out something else to do for the rest of the day. Really Crooks, I'm going crazy!"
She stood up and grunted in annoyance as her hair snatched on something.
"And this hair!" she continued her rant. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to brush it? I should have added it to my list of boring things to do each day, twice each day, actually. I'm sure it's well over ten meters long! Ugh!"
Her cat merely meowed once and flicked its tail. Hermione walked over to one of the many windows of her tower. She looked at the forest and mountains that surrounded her. The summer was well on its way and wildlife could be heard all around. For some time, she watched the birds fly through the branches of the nearby trees and listened to the gurgling sound of the stream sheltered by them.
"When Aunt Ellis returns I will ask her," Hermione promised. "I turn 18 next week, surely I'm old enough to go outside now? If I ask for it as my birthday present, she won't be able to deny my, now would she?"
She walked over to Crookshanks and picked him up. He made a disgruntled noise, being lifted from his cosy, sunny spot.
"Now, what shall we do today, Crooks?" Hermione asked him. "Paint, bake or read?"
xXxXxXx
Hermione's days continued much in the same, boring fashion. Every day she went through her chores, only to end up with nothing left to do well before mid-day. When it rained, she faithfully hung a bucket on the hook outside of the tower. Without her aunt present, it was her only means of getting water. When she was younger, she had once forgotten to collect it. She had been thirsty for days.
"She should be back today or tomorrow, Crooks." Hermione was once more laying on her back on the wooden floor. She was trying to find an empty spot on the ceiling or walls for her newest painting. "And I will ask her, I really will. I really, really will!"
Deep down, she knew she was only trying to convince herself, trying to gather enough courage. Her aunt had always told her - no, warned her - that the outside world was an ugly and cruel place. According to her aunt, there was nothing worth seeing out there. Hermione begged to differ but when she did so out loud, Aunt Ellis would tell her she was too young to understand, too naïve.
However, with all the time in the world, and an inquisitive brain that had nothing else to do but think, Hermione started questioning her aunts teachings. The books she brought back from her trips to the outside world must have come from somewhere interesting? The same applied to the paint and the paintbrushes. She would bring back vegetables; how did they grow? Who harvested them?
Of course, she had all the theoretical knowledge. She devoured every book her aunt brought back, be it on math, physics, languages, cooking, farming, geography or history. There was no end to her curiosity, but she wanted the actual knowledge.
She wanted to see it all, see it in real life: the practical applications of the knowledge she had accumulated, the beautiful places her books described to her. She wanted to talk to the people who had written those books, talk to the philosophers that questioned her beliefs . How hard would they be to find? Given the fact that, other than her aunt, she had never seen anybody wander into their little valley, and given the amount of uninhabited forest she could see around her, there couldn't be too many people in the world, right?
"Hermione!"
Hermione shot up when she heard her name being called, throwing Crooks from his spot on her stomach.
"She's back, Crooks, auntie is back!"
Her familiar ignored her, grumpily crawling under a cabinet. Hermione ran to the window looking out over the single path that lead to the tower, and waved at her aunt. She had been gone a full week.
"I'm coming up, make sure there's nothing on top of the hatch, dear."
Hermione rolled her eyes. Once, only once, had she forgotten that she had placed a bunch of books on the hatch that lead to the stairs out of the tower. She had been sound asleep when her aunt returned and it had taken over an hour, and a lot of pounding and yelling from her aunt, before she even realised there was a problem. Of course, Aunt Ellis never let her forget it.
"Welcome back!" Hermione beamed as Ellis' wavy, black hair came into view. Quickly she took over the bags and rucksacks her aunt was carrying.
"Hello there, dear. Do make me a cup of tea, I'm exhausted."
"Yes, Aunt."
She hurried over to the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter and putting on some water for the tea.
"Don't just drop those bags there, 'Mione, sort them out. I don't want any jars broken or liquids spilled."
"Of course." She busied herself with unpacking the many bags. "Did you carry all this on your own? It's heavy!"
"Only for you, dear. There's a new book in there somewhere as well."
Hermione beamed at her aunt and started digging. "Aunt, are these the ingredients for the dog-disease cure?"
"Yes, and enough for some typical salves and syrups." Ellis answered just as Hermione found her book and started leafing through it. "You know how long it takes to make the dog-disease cure, dear, you better start working on it right away."
Hermione looked from her book to her aunt and back. With a sigh, she relented. "I'll read you tomorrow," she solemnly promised the book as she put it on a shelf.
"Don't talk to inanimate objects, Hermione. I would start thinking you have gone crazy, and we can't have that, now can we? How's the tea coming?"
"The water is almost boiling."
"Well then, come over here and put that hair to good use."
"Yes, aunt." She wrapped her hair around her only living relative and sat down at her feet, allowing it to glow. "Aunty?" she started.
"What is it?"
"I was thinking about my birthday. Since I'm turning 18, I mean, I'm all grown up now, right?"
"What's this about girl? Stop your rambling."
"As a birthday present, this year, I wasn't thinking about a book or more paint, but, can I go outside? Just for a bit? Go to the village with you one time?"
She looked up to her aunt, hope evident in her eyes. Ellis was staring down at her, her eyes narrowed, before her features softened.
"Hermione, dear, haven't I told you often enough that the outside is dangerous and ugly? Why would you ever want to venture out there? Now go fix my tea, I'm sure the water is ready by now."
Rearranging her hair, Hermione once more did as she was told.
"But Aunt Ellis, I just want to see for myself. Not that I don't believe what you are saying, but, you know, I want to see what I've been reading about."
"I've told you time and time again, those books are romanticising what's really out there. They make it all look pretty while it isn't. You wouldn't want to see it."
"But, it's just –"
"No!" Hermione jumped at the sudden angered tone. Ellis walked over to Hermione and cupped her cheeks. "Don't you trust me? Don't you believe what I'm saying? I really do know best, my dear. I've been out there."
Hermione let out a sigh. "Yes, Aunt Ellis, of course I believe you."
"Now, what would you like to have for your birthday? I can bring something back when I sell the cures you're about to make?"
"I'm not sure, I'll think about it and let you know."
Ellis kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl. Now let's have that tea, shall we?"
xXxDracoxXx
Draco laughed as he rushed through the forest at full speed, ducking under branches and guiding his trusted horse to jump rocks and fallen trees. He could hear the shouts and cursing from his pursuers. They seemed relentless in their pursuit, determined to catch him no matter what. He knew he had already lost a couple of them along the way.
No matter how exhilarating the chase was, he was starting to get wary of it. He knew he was on one of the less travelled parts of the forest, so he started looking for a game trail he could use to mislead his band of followers. Spotting one, he took a sharp turn and slowed his horse to a walk to make less noise. Looking over his shoulder, he watched the group of guards rush past, intent on following the main path.
He smirked. Idiot Muggles. He looked around. It probably isn't a good idea to get back to the road though, in case they turn back. With a shrug, he decided to follow the game trail for a little while, knowing that if he got lost, he could always Apparate. It wasn't recommendable with a horse, but manageable.
Pragmatism lead to curiosity as the trail seemed to lead him to a mountain gorge. His curiosity only rose when he spotted faded footprints. He dismounted to lead his horse by hand when the forest became too dense. It whinnied in protest as they pressed through the shrubbery next to a stream.
A gasp escaped him as he finally broke through, the sight of the beautiful valley literally took his breath away. He watched as birds flew through the canopy of the forest that stretched to his right, only to soar high and disappear along the ridges of the steep rock wall to his left. The stream continued straight on for a bit, through a meadow overflowing with white and blue flowers, before curving away and disappearing into the trees. The valley seemed to be shaped much like a bowl, surrounded by mountains on all sides.
He was lost in awe, until a hard shove in his back nearly sent him sprawling. His horse gave him a disdainful look as it freed itself from the bushes, as if the sight was nothing new to him and Draco forgetting about him was a capital offence. Draco glared at him. Nix had been a gift on his 18th birthday and had turned out to be a stubborn, self-righteous menace. Even now, five years later, Draco sometimes wondered if the horse would ever simply listen to him. He guessed not.
Huffing at his horse, which languidly started grazing, he grabbed the reins and mounted. An irregularity caught his eye. Looking more closely, he could see the tip of a roof just above the treetops. Curiosity once more rising, he set out to follow the trail further into the valley. At least that explains the footprints, he thought to himself.
After a ten minute walk, he was once more shocked at the sight before him. Who would ever have thought a tower – of all things possible – would be standing on its own in the middle of a remote valley? But there it was, at least five stories high, made out of a weathered grey stone, dotted with lichen and small plants. It had a strong base, narrowed at its centre, and tapered out again at the top. The roof was made out of wooden tiles.
He blinked when he saw a figure sitting idly at the biggest window. She was reading a book, impossible long hair flowing freely in the wind, and blissfully unaware of his presence. He took a moment longer to take in the hair that almost reached the bottom of the tower. That can't be comfortable, he thought. Why on earth would anybody let it grow that long?
He studied the figure a bit longer. From the distance she seemed rather young. Her posture hinted that she was used to sitting in that spot, not afraid of the height at all. The way her neck was curved and her leg pulled up gave her a graceful look. Well, I was planning on avoiding Binache's men for a while, why not do it in company? A slow smile crept up his face.
Draco turned to his horse. "You stay here," he spoke firmly.
Nix turned his head and gave his owner a look that could only be interpreted as defiant.
"Seriously," Draco warned, wagging his finger, "don't you dare wander off."
It wouldn't be the first time he had to make a quick escape, only to find Nix had decided to take a stroll. The horse, however, seemed unimpressed, completely ignoring Draco and continuing his grazing.
Draco narrowed his eyes. "If you even move a hoof, I'll gladly let the wolves eat you."
As if summoned, a wolf howled from somewhere in the mountains. Draco smirked evilly. Nix threw his head back and seemed to understand. Satisfied, Draco turned and walked closer to the tower.
"Good morning, milady," he spoke up, raising his voice a little so it would carry to the top of the tower. "I am surprised to find someone this remote from civilisation. Would you honour me by giving me your name?"
He made a small bow, and waited for a response. When none was forthcoming, he peered up at the figure high above him. She simply turned a page and continued reading. Was she ignoring him? Or did she simply not hear him? Opting for the latter (the first option was inconceivable, if not impossible) he tried again, louder this time.
Again, no response came. He narrowed his eyes and glared up. It seemed she hadn't moved an inch, still intent on her book. He half had the mind to go pull on her hair to get her attention, but figured that wouldn't be the best introduction he could make. No, he would look for a door and go upstairs.
Circling the tower, he came up empty. Confused, he circled it again, looking for signs that the door might be hidden. He encountered nothing but solid rock. There must be stairs somewhere. He circled a third time, just to be sure. There was no indication of a door or a stairwell at all. Walking backwards until he could look up at the window again, he decided to give up on chivalry.
"Hey! You there!" he yelled. He sighed when she didn't even flinch. She can't be that immersed in her book. He pondered the lack of response and the baffling absence of stairs. Of course! he finally thought. She's magical! She's using a silencing charm and she probably just Apparates up there. Makes sense if you have children, they can't just run off into the forest.
He wondered about his next move. He could try to break her silencing charm, but that would just be plain rude. Besides, she might just think he was attacking her. Not such a great idea. No, he would simply Apparate up there and introduce himself.
Decided upon his course of action, he took a moment to straighten his appearance. He ran a hand through his hair, making it look fashionably tousled, and brushed wrinkles out of his jacket. To his horror, he noticed there were some leaves stuck on his shoulders. Thank Merlin she didn't spot him before!
Grabbing his wand, he concentrated on the bit of interior he could see through the window, and Apparated inside.
"Good morning, milady -"
A shriek interrupted him. He looked up from the small bow he was making, just in time to see a book flying at his head, closely followed by the tell-tale red light of a stunner.
xXxHermionexXx
Hermione scurried away as the thing that suddenly appeared next to her dropped to the ground. Crookshanks was hissing from under a closet, and she went to retrieve him. He continued hissing from the safety of her arms.
Keeping a safe distance, Hermione studied the thing. She cringed as she saw her book lying open on the floor, pages down. Her first instinct was to throw something at the sudden apparition, and the only thing at hand was her book, her poor, poor book.
"Do you- do you think that's a man?" she whispered to Crookshanks, afraid that it would wake up if she talked too loud.
The cat didn't respond, content to glare at the intruder.
"I have to go save my book, Crooks, I can't just leave it like that." She put him on the ground. "Do you think it is safe?"
Crookshanks looked up to her, meowed, and carefully approached the figure. After sniffing it for a bit, he sat down and started licking his paw. Hermione figured that meant the - possibly human - thing wasn't going to wake up.
Grabbing her courage, and wrapping her hair around herself so she could make a quick escape if necessary, she tiptoed towards the window to pick up her mistreated book.
"I think it is a man," she wondered out loud.
Still holding on to her book, she crouched down and carefully poked him. He was lying mostly on his stomach, one arm trapped underneath him, the other stretched to the side. She poked at him again. Encouraged by his lack of response, she started studying him more carefully.
He was wearing something she remembered were called trousers. Tugging at the fabric with one hand, she doubted that anybody could find that particular piece of clothing comfortable. She pulled at his vest to reveal a linen shirt underneath. Typical male clothing, or so her books told her. She padded to his other side to see his face.
"Have you ever seen hair this light?" Hermione asked Crooks. Her cat walked over and sniffed the man's face, as if contemplating her question. He meowed, and sat back down to continue his grooming.
Hermione reached out to touch the man's hair. She thought it would feel coarse, like hay or straw, but was surprised at how soft it felt. She stroked it a bit longer in wonder. After having satisfied her curiosity about the weird hair colour, she wiped all of it out of his face so she could see him better. She decided he looked handsome, even though she had no other men to compare him with.
"Don't you think he's handsome, Crooks? I do. I think he's good looking." She skimmed her fingers over his cheek, encountering a roughness she hadn't expected. "I think he has facial hair, Crooks!" she exclaimed.
The man grunted, prompting her to grab her book and smack it on his head in fright. Crookshanks hissed, his fur standing up.
"Oh no, I'm going to damage my book if I keep doing that!" she proclaimed, inspecting it for damage but finding none. "What am I to do Crooks? What if he wakes up? What if he's dangerous? Aunt Ellis says that strangers are violent, and that they would hurt me. He doesn't look dangerous, now does he?"
She looked at her familiar, and then around the room, in search for a solution. "I have it," she declared, spotting a chair. "I'll just have to tie him up, that way, he can't do anything. But what to tie him up with? I wonder if we have some rope…"
Crookshanks chose that moment to stretch out a claw towards her hair, and yank on it.
"Crooks! No! You know you're not allowed to- Oh, I see. You clever boy!"
She put the chair closer to the unconscious man, and tried to lift him onto it.
"Are all men so heavy?" she complained. "This one doesn't look fat, but boy, he must eat like a horse to weigh this much!"
Finally, she managed to put him on the chair and tie him to it with her hair. For once, she was happy that it was so long; it allowed her to stay well out of reach even with most of it wrapped around him. He seemed completely harmless to her. Why was her aunt so adamant that all outsiders were dangerous?
She picked up her book and walked back to the window. Looking out, she saw what she presumed was his horse, grazing. An idea came to her.
"If he's from the outside world, he can take me back there. Do you think he would be willing to take me with him?" she wondered out loud, looking at him over her shoulder. "Only for a day or two? Auntie will be gone for at least another four days. What do you think Crooks? Should I ask him?"
Her cat jumped on the man's lap and sat down, looking at him. Hermione interpreted it as a 'yes'.
"Ok. Alright. I'll ask him. He will have to take me with him, or I will not let him go at all! Yes, that's what I will tell him."
Hermione nodded to herself and settled down on the window sill. There was no reason why she couldn't continue her reading while she waited for him to wake up again.