A/N: Disclaimer as always, Im not JK etc. If I was, I would be living in a mansion and not writing fanfic. Dangit.
Thank you to my ever helpful and always sweet beta!
She was the smartest witch in her school. Having learnt to read and write at roughly three years old, she was a prodigy, already ahead of her class before class had even begun. Unfortunately, the era was not one in which women were treated equally with men. Even in a slightly more progressive society in the small but ever growing magical world, women were second class citizens. The isolation and fear surrounding the people of Diagon only led them to cling to tradition all the more. Sometimes Hermione thought she could smell it; the greasy, disgusting stench of fear.
"Miss. Granger! If you would please grace us with your attention?"
Hermione jumped in her seat, unaware she had been dreamily staring out through the window, her glazed eyes fixated on the trees.
"I'm sorry Ms. McGonagall, what is it you were saying?" Hermione blushed, trying to seem innocent.
"Oh no, don't let me disturb you young lady. I am only trying to teach you how to transfigure an inanimate object into an animate object. Clearly you have no need for my teachings. Would you please kindly stand up here madam and demonstrate your perfected skills?"
There was soft snickering throughout the small classroom. All girls of course; the boys had their own section of the school, with larger rooms. Hermione got up from her seat and walked over to McGonagall's desk, feeling more alert. She inwardly debated over how to handle the situation: to do whatever McGonagall asked for correctly, and have everyone including McGonagall more jealous and angry, or to fail at the task and be ridiculed?
"I want you to change this apple into a bird. More specifically, change it into a crow." She placed a green apple onto her scratched and worn wooden desk. Stepping back from the table, McGonagall watched Hermione with a critical eye.
Hermione stared at the apple and suddenly found it hard to breathe. She knew how to change the damn apple into a crow. She had known for two years. All the books in the village (what few of them there were), she had read and memorized by the time she turned sixteen. And now, gazing at that apple, she realized there was nothing more to her life. The people were afraid to experiment, afraid to test the limitations placed on them by the beings in the woods. Every attempt in the past only led to death and destruction. She was chained down, succumbing to the fear of the village.
With her jaw clenched, she reached into her pocket and took out a piece of chalk. She drew some intricate symbols around the apple and muttered a long string of incantations. Each student needed to carry a knife on their person at all times. This is because all spells required a bit of blfood to help ease magic from the spell caster into the living world. There were strict rules and the harshest of punishments for anyone causing harm to another with a knife. The knife's purpose was only for spells. Hermione gripped the intricately carved wooden handle carefully as she pricked her left finger and let it drip onto the chalk marks.
The class watched as the apple slowly turned black, contorted its shape and grew larger. Feathers sprouted and the shape finally took on a crow's after a little over three minutes. Hermione really wished they had a more efficient way of casting spells, one that wouldn't require blood-letting, complicated writing, and long drawn incantations. The mad-woman living just next to the wooded borders, Trelawney, would frequently rant and ramble about various things she claimed would happen in the future. To everyone's amusement she predicted that the wizarding world would one day use sticks to point at things and cast spells. Absolutely ridiculous. Why not suggest the wizarding world take to wiggling their noses to cast magic?
"Very well Granger, you have proven yourself yet again. Take your seat."
The class was silently glaring at Hermione as she walked over to her seat. She could overhear Pansy Parkinson whisper to Lavender "Little Miss Perfection. A pity someone like her would never forget to close the window."
Lavender stifled her laughter. "You're terrible Pansy! That's just mean!" but even her shock didn't stop her fit of giggles.
Hermione scowled to herself and went back to staring out the window. If an outsider ever could get past the forest and enter the village, they would be very confused about the carvings around the windows and doors of all the buildings. The complex symbols on the inner and outer frames would certainly give them away for witchcraft. Almost everyone in Diagon was too grateful for their protective qualities to actually question whether it was morally acceptable to have cast those protective spells at the lives of others... Hermione swallowed hard, trying not to feel sick. They needed a lot of blood to cast protective spells over all the buildings. The wizarding world was more progressive than the human one, but the fear was so palpable back then that they quickly regressed. The blood of the elderly and disabled was… harnessed. But that happened such a long time ago, so long ago, that people had forgotten the origins of their protection, or perhaps finally felt they could ignore the past. They were now praising the dead for having willingly and courageously given their lives for the protection of the village. But Hermione read all the texts, including what few journals they had. There was no willing sacrifice.
She jumped, startled to hear class was over. Headmaster Lockhart was already ringing the bell. "Ms. Granger, if you might please wait here after class?"
The whole room burst into delighted sniggering. One stern look from McGonagall sent them skittering away but Hermione was hurting inside. Why did she have to be so damn different? She may as well have been born in the human world and burned at the stake just to get it over with.
She walked up to her teacher's desk for the second time that day. "Yes Ms. McGonagall?"
Minerva McGonagall waited until all her students left earshot before turning to Hermione. To Hermione's surprise, the older woman's gaze was soft and sympathetic.
"I know it must be difficult for you Hermione. You're quite possibly the smartest witch in our village." She paused, a far off look on her face. "You are not the only one you know, to struggle and suffocate in this village. We all want our freedom, especially those who have talent… This place…. changes us all. Do you understand Hermione?"
She looked at her teacher with newfound respect. It is possible that McGonagall would have been a kinder, gentler person were she in another place; a place where horror wasn't commonplace. It struck her how similar she and McGonagall were.
"When I was a young girl, and I was young once," she smiled a little, taking years off her face and making her far more approachable "I found it difficult to make friends. That's what happens when you're exceptional. You stand out and apart. It's a difficult life. However… I know what it is that consumes you." Her eyes narrowed and darkened.
Hermione suddenly felt flustered, caught in a guilty act. McGonagall turned and looked over to the window. The dark forest was shifting in the wind, a storm was coming. People would be hiding in their homes early tonight, because Their call was powerful in the rain.
"You mustn't go there. You must not test yourself. Far more powerful wizards have tried and failed. Don't give in to temptation and curiosity. It will be the death of you. Whatever They are, there is no mercy. No one is safe, neither children nor women. If you truly wish to help us find freedom, you need to wait patiently." She watched Hermione's expression close. "Please Hermione, finish your schooling and join the tribal members in their spell casting. I hear they are looking at transportation spells…"
Her feeble attempt to exorcise Hermione's demons fell flat. McGonagall was an intelligent woman, but where was she? Teaching the young how to spell cast. She did nothing to contribute to the tribal members efforts, how could she? The only woman in that group was Dolores Umbridge. The men in the village had all the power and were allowed to do anything and everything vital to Diagon. Hermione Granger would not be a school teacher. She also had no intention of helping the tribal members with transportation spells, should they have asked her. They had no idea what they were doing. In their first and only attempt, they trained Cedric Diggory to cast their transportation spell. The idea was to cast the same spell and transport himself back. To everyone's horror, he never transported back, and for a good few minutes, they could hear his voice screaming in agony near the spot where they conducted the spell. No one knew where he went and no one really wanted to know. Another wizard was dead, or so they hoped.
But she couldn't let McGonagall know this. It was dangerous to acknowledge the hypocrisy and flaws within the village. Hermione deeply believed that in any other circumstance, in another world, she could trust this woman. Yet it was impossible to do so now, when fear had tainted her. Or was Hermione herself tainted?
She forced a little smile "Please don't worry Ms. McGonagall. I am full of fanciful thoughts lately, I blame the festival" She blushed at her own attempt to behave like one of those other silly girls. McGonagall bought it.
"Very good! Of course you should be mindful not to do anything inappropriate… you're with the Weasley boy yes? He's a good boy. You need to have more fun Ms. Granger!"
Hermione's smile became genuine. Although she had difficulty trusting McGonagall, the woman cared enough to talk to her.
"Of course I would never do anything inappropriate. Thank you for talking to me."
"Not a problem. Now off you go… you need to get home quickly. The storm is going to come soon…" There was a flicker of fear in those eyes.
Hermione nodded and grabbed her satchel full of books. McGonagall herself left everything on her desk and quickly took to leaving. A part of Hermione felt her teacher might have walked her home to make sure she didn't do anything stupid but their homes were in completely opposite directions. Fend for yourself first.
*****
By the time she got out of school the rain was pouring. Her normally bushy hair was matted on her head. The cobblestone streets were slippery so she had to trudge sloppily through the muddy grass. She shielded her eyes from the downpour, trying not to lose her way. Diagon was fairly large. Houses tightly packed in the center but more spaced out the closer to the forest. Her own home was nearest to the forest. The houses were covered in carvings from old useless spells and newer more effective protective charms. The basic charms for every house were spells to fortify the house physically, block natural disasters, and silencing spells. The tribal members gave everyone clear rationales for needing those spells.
The tribal members have been alive since the village's origin. It was an unnaturally long life that most people believed were a result of the battle with the Dark Lord. Something in that fight prolonged their lives so they could live decades after most would have passed, except for Dumbledore, whom historical documents say was killed by Them shortly after the village developed. The tribal members had the most experience with Them. The majority of historical documentation on Diagon was written by the tribal members, who consist of five people: Dolores Umbridge, Bartemius Crouch, Lucius Malfoy, Horace Slughorn, and Cornelius Fudge. Since they had the most contact with the forest creatures, their word was law. They were also the most powerful and educated people in the village, although Hermione didn't understand their secrecy. Surely it would have benefitted everyone if the tribal members stopped hoarding spells and information. But who was she, a girl of seventeen, to criticize the activities of the town's heroes?
They told everyone that the creatures had the ability to wield fire, wind and water. Clearly the houses needed protection from these natural forces. The beings were known to call to people, like Sirens, or mentally break them down by creating ungodly noise, so they needed homes that nullified those sounds. These were things that no one had first-hand knowledge of. The spells that covered the houses against those attacks were created shortly after the time of the battle with the Dark Lord. There was only one spell that everyone had experienced with Them. Whatever the creatures were, They were strong. A fool who left their home at night would be pulp in the morning. Some were full grown men, completely shredded and spread along the village like fertilizer. The physical fortifications of every building was necessary. Even the barnyards, few that there were, were covered in spells. Pomona Sprout made the mistake of leaving the door open to her barnyard once and all they could find were smears of blood. Everyone deduced that the animals must have been killed and fully eaten.
Hermione smiled wryly. At least They don't eat us, that would be terrible… Feeling morose, she slowed her pace, but almost missed Draco's presence. Stopping abruptly, she turned to see Draco Malfoy standing in the field, facing the forest. Hermione was nearly home and she normally would have walked by the smug younger Malfoy, but he was acting strangely.
"Malfoy? Are you alright?"
The blonde boy didn't respond, his body relaxed and seemed completely unaware of her presence.
"Malfoy… what are you doing? It's absolutely wretched out here! And it's nearly nightfall. Get away from the borders and go home." Hermione walked over to him, annoyed and nervous. When she finally reached him and saw his face her nerves turned to panic. He was slack jawed, eyes glazed and an expression of… euphoria?
"Malfoy…" she murmured softly. Hermioned touched his shoulder lightly but he didn't register it. She knew that all she had to do was hit him. He wasn't the first person to find Their call more powerful in the rain. It had to do with the water. People would stare into the forest with a deranged look on their faces before they finally trekked over the boundary never to return, or to return in pieces the following morning. Hermione Granger never broke the rules. Never took risks. Hermione Granger, turned to face the forest.
With the rainfall, the trees shimmered and shined. The leaves no longer danced with the wind but shook violently, aggressively. The space between the trees was darker. Hermione felt herself relax, it was so beautiful in spite of its ominous movement. There was something… sinful about the trees, the noise of the water hitting the leaves was rage itself. The forest was alive and furious, but so unbelievably enticing at the same time. Her breath became shallow, eyes half lidded, as the rain suddenly felt like an intimate caress along her body. Her clothes stuck to her skin creating a lovely friction that excited her. She didn't feel chilly, she felt flustered.
She hungered.
This is wrong, this is bad.
She had to go to the forest.
No. The forest is deadly.
Her body trembled with a deep and teasing pleasure. No one touched her except the rain. No one to see except the forest.
No, They are in the forest…
But They needed her. She could feel it. It was important to go to Them. She was loved in the forest, she was wanted in the forest. The forest –
She nearly jumped out of her skin as Malfoy suddenly crossed in front of her. He was running to the woods!
"NO!" She screamed violently as she pounced on him with all her might. They tumbled into the mud, Malfoy sputtering.
"Agh! What are you doing Granger! Get off of me!" He shoved her to the side, red in the face with embarrassment.
"You almost ran into the woods!"
"Don't be an idiot Granger, I would do no such thing. I certainly wouldn't be stupid enough to let myself stare at the trees, let alone need the help of a halfwit girl like you!"
She glared at him, utterly furious. "You dare talk to me like that after I saved your life?! Good riddance to you, the next time you do something so foolish! I won't be there to save you and you can find your own way out of the forest!" She scathingly threw back at him, turning around and running back to her own home.
Her feet dug into the soft wet earth and slid but she managed to get home in one piece. She quickly bypassed her parents and entered her bedroom, panting and gasping for air. Hermione's emotions were tumultuous. For years everything had been so boring and stagnant, nothing new and nothing interesting. She finally did something shocking, allowed herself to see the forest and let it entice her. She also felt lust as she had never felt it before. A strange lust directed at no one in particular. A deep blush spread over her face at the thought that somehow… the rain and woods were making love to her. But the forest didn't win. The question was, would the forest have won if Malfoy hadn't fortunately (unfortunately?) interrupted the spell weaved on her?
Hermione bit her lip and walked over to her spell covered window. Latching it closed and locking it tight. She gave the forest one last glance through the grimy glass, as nervousness settled in her heart. Such a powerful magic these creatures had. She closed the two overlapping burlap curtains. They were four inches longer than the window frame, which had many small hooks protruding around it so Hermione could effectively cover the window.
Her bedroom door was also covered in carvings, exactly the same as the spells around her window except for one extra spell: at night Hermione herself would be able to leave her bedroom but would not be able to enter any other room in the house. This was the same for every doorway in the house.
Twenty years ago Diagon endured the Longbottom massacre. Frank Longbottom must have looked outside his window and was ensnared by the forest beings. The problem was that he didn't exit through his window and die, he let them in. With no other barriers to the doors… the whole inside of the house was covered in their flesh. Everything was destroyed and everyone was dead. Hermione remembered her mother's warning.
"These creatures are ruthless, inhuman and sick. The Longbottoms made a mistake and paid for it dearly. It didn't take Them long, everyone was dead by morning and the house… was covered in… Their baby boy…" she choked "he… he was sleeping… he… in the end… he… was part of the house… They… They… Hermione, NEVER look through the window. Do you understand me?!"
Hermione shuddered and began changing from her soaked clothes into her sleeping gown. Her parents called out to her and she promptly told them she was home safe and sound, trying to hide her guilt. Her underwear were completely ruined and not from the rain. She felt ashamed. It had felt so good, but it had to be the worst of evils. How do you fight something that makes you feel so good? In all her life she had never reacted so strongly to any man, not even Ron, and they had been seeing each other for three years. It was enough to make her want to lose her virginity… but these were the creatures that killed everything. There was no mercy. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Frank Longbottom probably died in lust.
Was it possible to defeat such creatures? They were strong, could manipulate the elements, and brought out peoples most animalistic urges. She feared Them. She was excited by Them. Worst of all, she wanted to test Them again.
She lay down on her tiny bed, weak and trembling. The rain pounded at her window, steadily and rhythmically.
Would Hermione dare test Them again?
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Thank you to those who put me on alert or fave author. Hehehe good for the ego. Sorry this took so long, it is exam week. Stop on by and gimmie a review, otherwise, hope you enjoy this story!
I took a little time explaining the nature of magic in this time period. I think its rather taken for granted (by Rowling) that people learn and methods evolve. I got the impression that they always had wands and could do all this elaborate magic, doesnt really fit with reality. Take... errr transportation. From walking, to horses, to cars, trains, airplanes... and even these methods evolved in and of themselves. So the magic in this story is like technology back then, really inefficient, dangerous and screwy lol