Disclaimer: Any character or locale that you recognize is the result of JK
Rowling's imagination and therefore her property. I'm not making money off
this, just playing on JK's coattails for a while.
This part of the story is rated R for violence and content. It will become NC-17 at some point so be warned.
Chapter 2: Voices
Hermione woke with a scream on her lips that would never reach ears. She immediately passed out again. The next time she woke she heard voices. Looking around she saw that she was in a small room that smelled of wheat and strawberries. It made her think of home. Sunday morning brunch with her mother mixing mimosas and her father sitting in his favorite chair reading the paper. Confusion set in as Hermione convinced herself that the attack in the forest had been a dream, but didn't reconcile with her current surroundings. The voices were clearer now. A language she didn't understand. "Wait a minute", Hermione thought to herself. She listened harder. "I DO know that language. Funny, it sounds like English, but different somehow." An old man entered the room carrying a tray with some kind of pastry and water on it. He looked the product of many long years, deeply etched lines around his black but kind eyes, steel grey wiry hair. He spoke. It was garbled at first, but as Hermione focused on him, his words were clear, "Feeling better then, love? You quite gave me and Quiddity a scare. Merlin's truth I'm still scared for you, but you'll come through okay. I'm given to know things about people and you have something in you I've never seen before. A resolve, let's call it. Oh listen to me. Don't mind my rambling. I've been doing it for 117 years and don't expect I'll give up the habit anytime soon." Hermione gaped at the old man, realized her mouth was open and decided to try a few words, "accccchhh". The man came and sat on the bed and laid a gentle finger on Hermione's lips. He spoke softly and carefully, "Best not to rush it, love. You will get your voice back, but the healing spell needs more time." His eyes saddened and he looked away.
Hermione heard another voice come from outside the room. Again it was garbled at first, but she concentrated on the voice and heard, "....out of here. Nothing but trouble she'll be once the change begins." The voice was strange. It was low and guttural. Another voice answered in a soft velvety purr, "Master says she can fight it. Master says that if he caught it in time, she will be incorruptible. You must trust the master as always you have." The terror in Hermione's eyes must have been apparent as the old man was suddenly trying to reassure her that she would be okay. She tried her voice again, "What happened to me?" she rasped out.
"You were infected by a most vile creature, child." the man responded. He continued, "I don't suppose lying to you will do you any good and I've never believed in sugarcoating a harsh truth. I found you by the enchanted pond that he uses to lure in his victims. He is a force to be reckoned with, but nothing a good stupefy hex won't help. I got you to safety, but not in time to stop the infection, I fear. My dear, only time will tell if I have saved you or damned you, but you are alive and one can hope that any life is better than none at all." Hermione's head was spinning. Infection? Damned? Again the voice from the other room sounded, "She'll wish she was dead a year from now. Couldn't leave well enough alone, could he?"
"What is he talking about?" Hermione demanded.
"Who, dear?" the man answered.
"The man in the other room. Why is he saying that I would wish I was dead?" Hermione's voice was getting stronger albeit very sore.
"There is no one else here, love. The only ones in the other room are Quiddity and Adele, my dog and cat."
"I don't understand. I heard voices talking about me and the trouble I will cause you. Please, I don't understand any of this. What attacked me. What infected me?" Hermione was near hysteria when a cat the color of gray moonlight jumped lightly onto her chest and nuzzled it's face into her hair. Hermione became aware of a voice in her ear, "Don't worry sweets" it purred "Quiddity is as daft as he is ugly. Master will care for you until you are ready to face the future." Hermione's mouth dropped open again. She turned to the old man and asked, "Did you hear her speak to me?"
"Adele? She speaks to me all the time, but it comes out as a soft purr. I suspect we're seeing the first stage of your transformation and if it's a communication gift, then I'm greatly encouraged about your future. Now, eat some breakfast and get some rest. We'll talk more later, dear." The old man turned to leave the room.
"Wait!" Hermione called to him. "What is your name?" He turned slightly, "I am Christov Dimetria." Hermione regarded him with an earnest expression, "Thank you, Mr. Dimetria. For everything." He answered, "You're welcome, Hermione Granger." When he saw the look of shock on her face at the sound of her name, he let out a light laugh, "I know things too, Miss Granger. You'll find your purse on the table next to the bed." With a wink of his glittering black eyes, he left the room.
This part of the story is rated R for violence and content. It will become NC-17 at some point so be warned.
Chapter 2: Voices
Hermione woke with a scream on her lips that would never reach ears. She immediately passed out again. The next time she woke she heard voices. Looking around she saw that she was in a small room that smelled of wheat and strawberries. It made her think of home. Sunday morning brunch with her mother mixing mimosas and her father sitting in his favorite chair reading the paper. Confusion set in as Hermione convinced herself that the attack in the forest had been a dream, but didn't reconcile with her current surroundings. The voices were clearer now. A language she didn't understand. "Wait a minute", Hermione thought to herself. She listened harder. "I DO know that language. Funny, it sounds like English, but different somehow." An old man entered the room carrying a tray with some kind of pastry and water on it. He looked the product of many long years, deeply etched lines around his black but kind eyes, steel grey wiry hair. He spoke. It was garbled at first, but as Hermione focused on him, his words were clear, "Feeling better then, love? You quite gave me and Quiddity a scare. Merlin's truth I'm still scared for you, but you'll come through okay. I'm given to know things about people and you have something in you I've never seen before. A resolve, let's call it. Oh listen to me. Don't mind my rambling. I've been doing it for 117 years and don't expect I'll give up the habit anytime soon." Hermione gaped at the old man, realized her mouth was open and decided to try a few words, "accccchhh". The man came and sat on the bed and laid a gentle finger on Hermione's lips. He spoke softly and carefully, "Best not to rush it, love. You will get your voice back, but the healing spell needs more time." His eyes saddened and he looked away.
Hermione heard another voice come from outside the room. Again it was garbled at first, but she concentrated on the voice and heard, "....out of here. Nothing but trouble she'll be once the change begins." The voice was strange. It was low and guttural. Another voice answered in a soft velvety purr, "Master says she can fight it. Master says that if he caught it in time, she will be incorruptible. You must trust the master as always you have." The terror in Hermione's eyes must have been apparent as the old man was suddenly trying to reassure her that she would be okay. She tried her voice again, "What happened to me?" she rasped out.
"You were infected by a most vile creature, child." the man responded. He continued, "I don't suppose lying to you will do you any good and I've never believed in sugarcoating a harsh truth. I found you by the enchanted pond that he uses to lure in his victims. He is a force to be reckoned with, but nothing a good stupefy hex won't help. I got you to safety, but not in time to stop the infection, I fear. My dear, only time will tell if I have saved you or damned you, but you are alive and one can hope that any life is better than none at all." Hermione's head was spinning. Infection? Damned? Again the voice from the other room sounded, "She'll wish she was dead a year from now. Couldn't leave well enough alone, could he?"
"What is he talking about?" Hermione demanded.
"Who, dear?" the man answered.
"The man in the other room. Why is he saying that I would wish I was dead?" Hermione's voice was getting stronger albeit very sore.
"There is no one else here, love. The only ones in the other room are Quiddity and Adele, my dog and cat."
"I don't understand. I heard voices talking about me and the trouble I will cause you. Please, I don't understand any of this. What attacked me. What infected me?" Hermione was near hysteria when a cat the color of gray moonlight jumped lightly onto her chest and nuzzled it's face into her hair. Hermione became aware of a voice in her ear, "Don't worry sweets" it purred "Quiddity is as daft as he is ugly. Master will care for you until you are ready to face the future." Hermione's mouth dropped open again. She turned to the old man and asked, "Did you hear her speak to me?"
"Adele? She speaks to me all the time, but it comes out as a soft purr. I suspect we're seeing the first stage of your transformation and if it's a communication gift, then I'm greatly encouraged about your future. Now, eat some breakfast and get some rest. We'll talk more later, dear." The old man turned to leave the room.
"Wait!" Hermione called to him. "What is your name?" He turned slightly, "I am Christov Dimetria." Hermione regarded him with an earnest expression, "Thank you, Mr. Dimetria. For everything." He answered, "You're welcome, Hermione Granger." When he saw the look of shock on her face at the sound of her name, he let out a light laugh, "I know things too, Miss Granger. You'll find your purse on the table next to the bed." With a wink of his glittering black eyes, he left the room.
