Here's chapter 2! I changed my mind a few times about some things in it, feel free to point out any residue mistakes I forgot to deal with.
Who had made the Elder Wand? Where did the incredible technology behind it come from? Historically speaking it was thousands of years old, but how old exactly? So many questions. Hermione knew some questionable magic, having spent months searching up any information on the horcruxes. One of them was a blood ritual that could possibly reveal the identity of the wizard who crafted this brilliant wand. After some careful deliberation, she decided to do the ritual. Shaving a sliver of the wand off, a miniscule fragment that was almost invisible to the naked eye, she placed a drop of her blood and snuck a piece of bone from Harry's corpse. She tried very hard not to think too much about it. Harry wouldn't begrudge her this, not with so much at stake. She hoped.
Something was very wrong. Perhaps she had been too optimistic in rejecting the possibility that the wand was sentient. The ritual had failed halfway through, and somehow her magic was now bound to the wand. For the first time in a long while, she felt terrified and scared. What had she done?
Hermione looked at the gleaming black wand in front of her and cursed herself for being so stupid as to forget what it was. How many years had it been, sitting docily in her laboratory, teasing her with snippets of information, luring her deeper and deeper into the trap. It had killed every single wielder before her, did she really think it was safe to play with such an artifact? She shivered and felt more of her magic begin seeping into the wand. Around her, the tattered remains of the blood ritual lay shattered. The wand had resisted the ritual, which could only be possible if it was sentient. A thick rope of light connected her to the wand and she tried desperately to hold on to her essence. It was like trying to resist gravity. The unrelenting pull of the wand was ripping her apart and no matter what she did, she could not move. Was this it? Her final moments? The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth as her body began to shut down. Internal hemorrhaging. Her thoughts drifted lazily to Ron, and she felt sorrow and guilt overwhem the pain for a brief moment. If only she had destroyed the wand instead of attempting to study it. If only she had realized what it was doing to her when she had sacrificed her wand to reveal its origin. Unwittingly, she had dug herself a hole so deep that she could no longer remember what life was like without it.
Come on Hermione. No ifs, remember?
She gritted her teeth, fighting back a cough and closed her eyes. Using occlumency, she steeled her mind against the pain and focused. Her magic belonged to her alone. No one was allowed to take it from her. No one. She fought the pull of the wand to a standstill, but her magic slowly trickled through her fingers like water. Suddenly, a hand touched her face and she opened her eyes in astonishment. When had she closed them?
"Hello Hermione." Harry looked at her with a soft emerald eyes. He brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ears, in a gesture so familiar that she felt a sob well inside of her chest. His smile was like a knife cutting deep into her.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "so sorry for what I've done. I should have known, it was so obvious now and… and…". She realized she was babbling.
"Shhh." Harry hugged her and she felt herself relax. "It's alright. Everything will be alright. Just relax and let go."
Hermione froze. Harry would never have offered her false promises. He would never tell her to just give up either. She tore herself out of his grip and pushed him back.
"You're not Harry." She snarled. "Who are you."
His green eyes darkened, changing color until they were blood red. Lord Voldemort glared at her maliciously. "Your worst nightmare, witch. Give up, you can never win." He sneered at her, but did nothing otherwise.
Hermione studied him impassively. "Impossible, we destroyed every single one of your soul containers. There is no way…" She trailed off as she began to see what was happening. Harry had been the previous owner of wand, and before him it had been Voldemort. That meant the next should be…
"Hello Miss Granger." Albus Dumbledore smiled at her, looking every bit the way she remembered.
"Headmaster," she murmured, uncertain if this was real or not. A shade or an illusion? "Any words of advice?" She asked mockingly.
His sky blue eyes were as she remembered, warm and kind, but his words were wrong, so very wrong. "You should not fear death, child. Embrace it, there is no other way. Fear of the unknown is unbecoming those of great intellect."
His face was growing younger, white hair becoming yellow and blue eyes hardening. Hermione frowned. She didn't recognize the person in front of her, but if her hunch was right this was Gellert Grindelwald.
"Come now. What is one life compared to the many? All you need to do is give up and you will save countless lives. For the greater good."
"You want me to give up?" She said softly, feeling her anger burn inside her like a raging forest fire. Grindelwald raised a hand to her, palm face up as if asking her to take his hand. His face was melting away into the shadows leaving only the hand.
Hermione took the hand gently and felt her magic bubble around her eagerly, awaiting her will. "You have no idea how wrong you are." She snarled and pulled hard. Her magic. Hers and hers alone.
The world snapped and fractured like a smashed window pane and suddenly she was deposited in a soft comfy chair amidst an elegant room. Tapestries and painting were hung around her, and the soft carpet felt rich and soft beneath her feet. Beside her, warm flames crackled merrily in a hearth and seated across from her was a man she had never seen before.
"Another trick?" She scoffed. "You'll have to do better than that. I have no clue who you are."
"Ah, that might be because this isn't an illusion." He replied, amusement evident in his rich baritone voice. His hair was pitch black, dark as the shadows that danced in the firelight. He was easy on the eyes, a strong jawline and high cheekbones that made him seem elegant and refined.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And I should believe that because…?" She trailed off.
"Well," He stopped for a moment before cocking his head to one side and grinning. "I can't prove a negative. It would be an exercise in futility."
Unbidden, a small smile appeared on Hermione's face. "Indeed. I still don't know who you are supposed to be. I'd think I would remember meeting someone like you."
He quirked an eyebrow. "I'll take that as a compliment. My name is Ignotus Peverell and I am the one who crafted that artifact." He gestured to the wand that hovered between them. Hermione started in surprise. "Where did that come from?" She murmured under her breath.
"It's been here all along, you just never noticed before." He smiled, showing gleaming white teeth.
"And where exactly is here?" She asked warily, keeping her gaze fixed on the seemingly innocuous piece of wood.
"This is my home." He said cheerily. Hermione felt annoyed at his exuberance in the face of her plight. Then she realized what he had just said.
"Wait. You're Ignotus Peverell? And you made the Elder Wand?" She asked in surprise.
Ignotus furrowed his eyebrows in slight amazement. "Is that what they call it in your time? How curious. But to answer your questions, yes and yes."
Hermione thought for a second before shrugging mentally in acceptance. She could not think of a reason he would lie to her about his identity, at least not at the moment. "Suppose." She licked her lips nervously before continuing. "Suppose I believe you. Why am I here?"
Ignotus smiled sharply. "Well, I must admit you were not who I was expecting." Seeing her confusion he held up a hand to stall any questions. "Allow me to explain." Hermione closed her mouth and nodded in agreement.
"First off, I had thought a wizard would appear although I must admit, a beautiful witch such as yourself is certainly far better company," he winked at her and Hermione felt herself flush in embarrassment, "I'll start with the device that brought you here. You must first understand what the … wand... is." He paused and looked at her rather curiously. "I suppose the most important thing about it is that it is not a wand." Hermione felt astonished, then the revelation hit her. "Of course!" She gasped out. "That makes so much sense. No wonder I could not detect a core, it does not have one."
Ignotus smiled proudly. "I did not design it to be a wand, rather it was meant to be a true time turner. It would charge itself by absorbing ambient and channeled magic from the wizards using it. Theoretically, one day it would accumulate enough energy to successfully power the time sands inside and send the person through time to me."
Hermione was confused. "Then how is it that the wand can channel spells and amplify them without a working core?"
Ignotus blushed. "Urm. I don't know." He admitted. "I never intended for the time battery to be able to remember and use spells. It was probably a side-effect resulting from the interaction between the time sands and the in-built amplifier. It must have recorded each spell used and amplified them. It's quite fascinating."
Still reeling from the revelation that the wand was not a wand and that the crafter had not even intended for it to be used as a wand, Hermione remained silent.
"I did, uh, imprint a few runes into the device that would remind the owner to use the battery, although…" He paused again, sounding oddly guilty. "Anyhow…"
Hermione interrupted with narrowed eyes. "What runes are we talking about?"
"Naudhiz and Wunjo, respectively." He said at last, quietly. He didn't look at her. "Anyhow, the point of this was for true time travel to occur."
Hermione froze, any rebuke at his reckless use of runes was forgotten. "What?"
Ignotus grinned widely at her. "True time travel. Open ended! This device would send back a person from the future once it is fully charged, and I would be able to talk to them and find out what happened. My estimations say it would take roughly four generations for the device to be fully charged, five at most! Then, I could make adjustments for the future, making sure to take the best possible route! It's foolproof!" He was flushed with excitement.
Hermione didn't know what to say. "What about the future?" She asked at last, unable to believe what was going on.
"Well, it's already gone." He smiled at her. "I'm really sorry about that, but it's a small sacrifice to pay for the knowledge of future events."
"Small sacrifice?" Hermione felt rage surge through her at the implications of what he had just done. "You complete imbecile." The raven-haired wizard was taken aback at this.
"Look," He said sharply, "I know you don't want to die, but think about all the good you'll do. If you tell me about the future, I'll be able to guide it to the best possible scenario. I could prevent wars from happening, save millions of lives to disease, create new inventions that would have otherwise taken years." He was practically beaming now. "Besides, it's too late now. The device has activated, which means that the future is already gone."
Hermione stopped her arguments, realizing that there was no way she could reason with him. She grabbed the Elder Wand and stood up. "I won't allow this."
Ignotus looked at her in shock. "But…" He stammered, "It's too late already. The future you know is gone!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Maybe not." Her mind raced as she tried to find a solution. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth before lowering the wand cum time travel device. Ignotus beamed at her. "I knew you would see reason. Now tell me, from when do you hail? I must admit I have never seen a witch wearing …"
"Imperio." She could not use legilimency. If she injured Ignotus, it would destroy the entire future as she knew it. Besides, legilimency was highly inaccurate and insufficient for the situation. Ignotus' eyes glazed, and she felt a wave of ecstasy rush through her at having him completely and utterly under her control. It was an unforgivable curse for a reason. Prolonged use would render the user addicted, and there was no coming back once you were addicted.
"Is there a way for me to be sent back into the future?" She asked him curtly.
"I do not know. The time stick is supposed to be a one way trip, but currently it holds more energy than it supposed to. Perhaps if you reverse the polarity and trigger the device it will send you back to a future." He spoke monotonously and Hermione nodded. She had guessed that much. She removed the spell and he slowly came out of his daze.
"What was that spell?" He looked shocked, a hint of fear and worry appearing on his face now. "Even if you kill me, the future is already gone. You should accept it."
Hermione looked at him scornfully. "I'm not an idiot. I will wipe your memories of this conversation. You will never remember it."
Ignotus looked stunned. "You can't do that. There is no spell that can …" He paused as realization struck. "I…"
Hermione cut him off. "Obliviate." She removed all the relevant information and stunned him right after. She was infinitely glad that occlumency didn't come about until the thirteen hundreds. If Ignotus knew how to shield his mind, the future would truly be destroyed.
Reversing the polarity took her a while, but soon she was ready. Giving a final glare at Ignotus, Hermione activated the wand with her magic. Never before had anyone made her want to kill them as badly as Ignotus. Not even Lord Voldemort.
The wand began to hum and shake as the world around her shattered like a broken mirror and she felt herself spiral into darkness. A sudden thought struck her. What if the device didn't have enough energy to take her to her future? Ignotus had used his body as an anchor, which was why she had appeared before him instead of somewhere random. She had no such anchors. It was like throwing a dart blindfolded and hoping it struck the right target. Suddenly, pain surged through her entire body like a lightning bolt from the sky. The pain did not fade, but grew increasingly agonizing, it was as if she was being burned alive. A second later, she blacked out.
Something was tickling her nose. She giggled and stretched herself, feeling oddly sore but filled with energy. The last time she had felt like this had been the night of their wedding. "Stop it Ron." She curled into herself and lazily opened her eyes. "I'm too sore…"
She was in a grass clearing, surrounded by tall trees whose canopies blocked the sunlight. Now wide awake, Hermione felt panic and adrenalin surge through her veins. Idly, she realized she was completely naked, but the weather was warm and hot. Sometime mid-summer, she thought to herself dazedly. It had been winter when she had done the ritual. Maybe she was on the other side of the globe. It could be possible. Perhaps she had been dumped in the carribeans. Or … or… She looked around her. The Elder Wand was nowhere to be seen, but she knew she could cast the spell wandlessly.
"Tempus." She muttered softly. June 20th 1942.
"No. No. No. No." She hyperventilated, half sobbing, half shouting and choking from unformed words. "Please no." The world was spinning, she couldn't breathe. She stumbled to her feet and nearly tripped. Her balance was off.
"This can't be happening." She muttered to herself. "This is just a bad dream. You're going to wake up anytime now Hermione." Half stumbling, she began to walk. She needed to get somewhere safe.
Before she had taken ten steps, the quick pitter patter of feet told her something was coming toward her. Was that a dog barking? She was dazed and the world made no sense to her. She felt a hysterical giggle well inside her chest. She was crazy. Good. No wait, that was bad. The brush rustled and a big boarhound burst through the undergrowth, barking madly. It bounded to her and began to circle her eagerly, tail wagging and ears straight. A man's voice shouted. It was so far away… Hermione began to laugh.
"Who's there?" A gruff voice exclaimed, an old man rounded the tree and gaped at the sight. A completely nude girl of fourteen or fifteen was laughing madly while Rue circled her all the while barking. She looked at him with unfocused brown eyes and a dazed expression on her face. He blushed as he realized her state of undress. He quickly averted his gaze and pulled at the front of his shirt. "Um, lass…" Before he could say anymore, she dropped in a dead faint mid laugh. Worry briefly warred with embarrassment before the former won. He quickly took off his shirt and used it to cover her as best he could. Then he lifted her carefully, trying his best to touch as little flesh he could before running toward his home. Rue followed behind, barking all the while.
She drifted in and out of consciousness.
"Hermione…" someone was calling her name. She was drowning, water all around her. A flash of red, she coughed, choking on a name. "Ron." She tried to call out to him, but it wasn't him. The red crest of Gryffindor sank in front of her, just out of reach. Desperately, she tried to grab it. The crest transformed into a lion with a magnificent yellow mane. It roared, but she felt safe. Twin shards of emerald gazed at her fondly. "Be strong."
She tried to cry out. "No, don't leave me. Please don't leave me. Not again." But the words wouldn't come out. She was choking and coughing as water flooded her lungs. The darkness receded. She was wandering in a forest. Twisting branches tangled her face and hair, but she kept running, brushing them aside. Something was ahead, something important. But suddenly she realized they weren't branches. Snakes were constricting her limbs, binding her and weighing her down. Thick twisting coils of scales crawling down her body and preventing her from moving. Darkness rushed in, blinding her and she covered her face.
When she took her hands away, she found herself trapped in a room. There was no doorway, only smooth rock all around her. "You can't keep hiding." Luna said to her, embracing her in a tight hug. "I know." Hermione replied, puzzled at where this was going.
The hands holding her lengthened and thickened. "Ronald!" She shrieked as he began to slowly undress her. She giggled as he tickled her and nuzzled into her neck. "Stop it, we'll be late."
"No babe, stay with me." He pleaded. She turned and kissed him on the mouth gently. "Silly lion, we have all the time in the world. Just … let … me…" What was it that she had to do again?
"Ron? Where are you?"
"I'm here." A muffled voice came from behind a tree. Hermione frowned. "Why are you behind the tree?" She shook her head in exasperation. " Never mind, come out. I have a present for you." She purred playfully. When no answer came, she laughed. "Alright. I'll come find you." She began to peel away the bark, but beneath each layer was another and she quickly panicked. Tearing at the wood until her hands bled, she persevered until, suddenly, she broke through and stumbled onto a stone floor. To her horror, a wasteland stretched as far as her eye could see. Broken buildings, smashed stone ramparts and shattered window panes greeted her. In a small circle around her, bones piled up so high she could not even see the top of the sky. A child's voice was singing.
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five." Hermione whirled around, looking for the child's voice. "Once I caught a fish alive."
"Where are you?" She cried, falling to her knees and feeling tears well in her eyes.
"Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
Then I let it go again.
Why did you let it go?
Because it bit my finger so.
Which finger did it bite?
The little finger on the right."
"Please, I need more time." The world was cracking and Hermione knew she needed to leave. A wicked laughter. The little child skipped down from the mountain of bones. "Time is all you have. Here. Have more." With a start, Hermione recognized the child as herself. "Wait." She called out. The world was crumbling away now, darkness bleeding in through the cracks.
"Wake up." Hermione woke.
The bed she was on was soft and warm, and it took some effort to convince her lazy body to sit up. As she stretched her sore limbs, the snug fur sheet that covered her began to slide down. She realized she was still naked and quickly wrapped it around herself, feeling embarrassed. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, she realized she was in a small wooden cabin.
"Hey there lass. You feelin' better?" An old man sat by a flickering firelight. The age lines on his face spoke of years of hardship, and Hermione noticed that there was a well worn crossbow lying carefully over his lap. A hunter of some sort, she gathered from her initial inspection. A bloodhound was curled in front of the fireplace, sleeping soundly.
"Ye-es." Her voice was slightly cracked and she cleared her throat a few times to get her vocal cords working. "How… how long have I been out?"
The old man seemed to relax at her question and slowly hung his crossbow on a nearby coat rack. "I'd say er, bout five months roughly. Old man winter rolled in bout couple weeks 'go."
Hermione felt her jaw drop. She had been out for five months? "I din't know if yer was goin' ta pull through. It was touch an' go a few times. Thank the lord you lived lass." At he mention of god, he dipped his head as if to offer a silent prayer.
"Thank you." She said it softly, slightly overwhelmed by the kindness he had shown her. He had tended to her for five whole months.
His smiled at her, before averting his gaze in shame. "When I firs' met ya, I thought to meself that yer was one of them madfolk. I guess it was jus' the sickness talkin'. Sorry bout Charlie, I din't want any trouble." He gestured to the crossbow.
Hermione chuckled softly. "I guess it was." She fell silent again, feeling completely lost. She had half hoped that when she woke it would be to her home in London, beside an amused husband who would no doubt laugh at her fantastical dream of time travelling back to the first century and meeting Ignotus Peverell. But now she knew that it was all real.
"Milady, do ya wan' something ta eat? I've got a fine stew cookin' if I may say so." Hermione suddenly realized how ravenous she was. Feeling flattered that he was calling her a lady, she replied. "Yes, please…" Only to realize she didn't even know what his name was. "And by what name should I call my savior?" She teased him slightly, and even in the faded firelight, she could see a blush steal across his face.
"Er, jus' call me Alan, milady." He quickly distracted himself by scooping a hearty portion of stew from a cooking pot over the fireplace into an oval wooden bowl and grabbed a spoon from the solitary table in the small cabin. Giggling softly, she reached out from under the blankets and accepted the steaming bowl. She made sure to eat it slowly, knowing that rushing would do more harm than good.
"I'm flattered to be called a lady," She said upon finishing the stew and settling back on the bed. "But please call me Hermione."
Alan the hunter flushed red and quickly shook his head. "I couldn', milady. It ain't proper." Hermione frowned for a second. "I must insist, it feels disconcerting to be called a lady when I am not."
The old man looked at her in confusion and bewilderment, then broke out in a low chuckle. "Of course yer a lady, I ain' heard no one speak so well who ain' come from a noble family. Yer prolly still not clear headed jus' yet. It'll come back to ya soon enough, milady." And that was that. Hermione could hardly explain why she spoke so well, and Alan was dead set in calling her by milady.
After her meal of rabbit stew, which tasted absolutely divine, it seemed hunger was the greatest spice, Alan introduced her to Rue the bloodhound, who had woken sometime during their conversation. Rue was a big softy and reminded Hermione of Fang, Hagrid's dog. They both looked tough and mean, but had more bark than bite. She immediately took a liking to Rue and quickly had him curled contently over her lap. Alan relaxed at this and let her play with the dog for a while, before shooing him off and telling her in as stern a voice he could muster that she needed more rest. Hermione only put up a token resistance before agreeing. She still felt a little weak in the limbs.
"Alan, where exactly are we?" Hermione asked the next morning. The old hunter was cleaning and preparing two rabbits for lunch and paused at her question. "Well, I ain' sure where exactly, this area ain' on the maps, milady." He scratched his head before giving a shrug. "In bout a week, Mike will be droppin' by to visit with some goods. I'm sure he'll know where we be, milady."
Hermione thanked him before asking if he had some spare clothes. Alan nodded and withdrew a small package from under the bed. "I got some woman clothes from Mike, he's a good friend o' mine an' he has a girl bout yer age." He busied himself with the rabbits as Hermione dressed herself. As she pulled the tight fitting clothes on, Hermione realized something that almost made her faint. Somehow, she was around fourteen years old. Last she checked, she had been twenty and married. Cursing the Elder Wand in her mind, she pulled the large fur coat and told Alan that she was going to take a walk and get some fresh air. At first Alan told her that he would come, but she protested and they eventually settled for Rue to accompany her and a promise that she would not go any further than twenty steps from the small cabin.
Hermione gazed at the beautiful winter forest that stretched endlessly before her eyes and felt her worries lighten ever so slightly. Rue was running around her excitedly and she obliged him by throwing a thick branch she had found on the ground. He barked happily as he gave chase and rewarded her with a slobbery kiss on the hand when she scratched his head.
She didn't know anything about this era. And that wasn't even the biggest issue. What was she supposed to do? Ignotus' device was ingeniously designed and the first source of open time travel. It was true that she could find the Elder Wand, modify its polarity and try and get back to her own timeline. The only problem? Doing that would change the timeline completely. Dumbledore was supposed to defeat Grindelwald and become the next master of the wand. If she meddled with that, her future would be gone. Perhaps she should just hide away in a remote part of the world and never interact with the outside. Hermione didn't know what to do. She felt frustrated and angry and she didn't know what to do. For once, her mind could give her no solution. Should she try and replicate Ignotus' time travel device? Even if she could, she would need supplies and Hermione was terrified of interacting with the wizarding world. One mistake and her future was eradicated. Already, she had changed a small portion of the muggle world. What if her actions had already invalidated the future? Maybe Alan was supposed to meet the love of his life and have a child who would later grow to become the prime minister? Who knows. By making him care for her over the last five months, had the world already been irrevocably changed?
Hermione fell to her knees and cried. Intellectually, she knew that the future was lost to her. At best, it would be a different one. At worst, a completely new one. But she didn't want to accept it. She cursed Ignotus for meddling with time. "Bad things happen the wizards and witches who mess with time." That was the warning she got when she given a simple time turner in her third year to use, but what about traveling fifty-seven years into the past? Three generations away. So close and yet so far.
She was lost and afraid. The desire to hide away pulled at her, and for a second that was all she wanted to do. Live in the forest, hidden away from the world like a fleeting illusion, never ever going into the world. She knew that would be the same thing as killing herself, and if there was one thing she would never accept in any form or way, it was suicide. To give up was not in her blood. A sudden thought came to her mind and she froze. What if she found Ignotus' device, reverse engineered a better version that would enable her to better travel through time and then traveled to where she was now and somehow got rid of herself. Then traveled into the a future where Hermione Granger had never time traveled? Sudden hope flared in her chest and she found herself breathing hard at the thought. In for a penny. In for a dime. Ignotus had meddled with time and brought this situation on her head. Well, she prided herself on being intellectually capable. She'd beat him at this own game. What to do with her past self? She could not obliviate herself, it wouldn't work. And she knew that she wasn't cruel enough to allow herself to be killed. Take her along? She giggled at the thought. Two versions of Hermione traveling into the future. Wouldn't Ron be surprised? She burst out laughing, collapsing onto the snow as Rue tackled her and licked her across the face. She sighed deeply, and looked around at the beautiful forest before slowly getting up to return to the cabin.
She would find a way back home. No matter the cost. And if she had to go against the very laws of magic to do so? Well, she'd already broken so many of them. What was one more?
"How're ya feelin', milady?" Alan asked when she returned, face a little flush from the chill of winter. It was a good feeling and Hermione beamed at him happily. "I feel much better." Alan looked relieved. Hermione could not explain to Alan everything that had happened, but she felt like she owed him an answer of sorts. He had been patient, tending to her needs and caring for her as if she was his family.
"I was lost." She said carefully. Alan, who had been cleaning the pot, stopped at her words. He didn't say anything, just looked at her and listened. "I was taken away from my family," by a crazy foolish imbecile of a wizard, "I didn't know how to get back to them so I ran for a long time. I ended up here," in this era and world, "with nothing and no one to help me. But now I know how get back to them. There is a place I need to go to and a few people I need to meet." She looked up at him, realizing only then that there were tears trickling down her cheeks. "I'm scared. I feel as if everything I do might be a mistake."
Alan walked over, and in an uncharacteristic act, he hugged her tightly. "It's alrigh'. Yer a strong lass, and it's okay ta feel scared. Believe in yerself, an' ya'll be jus' fine." Hermione felt her worry slowly bleed away and she returned his hug fiercely. "Thank you." She looked at him gratefully. "Thank you for everything." He seemed to realize he was touching her at this point and blushed as he let go.
"Er, certainly milady." She smiled fondly as he busied himself with cleaning the pot, his face bright red at his breach of decorum.
Mike was a wandering merchant who dropped off supply bundles for Alan every season in exchange for some of Alan's collection of animal pelts and horns. They bargained a bit, before Mike agreed to take Hermione to the nearest village in exchange for an exquisite fox pelt. When it was time to go, Hermione found herself weeping at the kindness Alan had shown her.
"Thank you for everything you've done for me." She said, hugging him tightly. "I wish there was some way I could repay you for your help."
"It was nothin', milady." Alan patted her on the head and smiled sadly. "I had a gurl once. She was a fierce un, always yellin' bout seein' the world and travelin'. I din't want her ta go, but fore she could, she fell ill. I wish I could'a been there to help her." Alan was crying now, and Hermione felt a pang of sorrow wash over her. "When I saw yer back in tha' glade, it was like the almighty lord had givin me 'nother chance. I couldn' help my lass, but I'm thankful yer lived through the illness. I want ya to have this." He pulled out a small bracelet made of wood and silver. It was intricately carved with a flowing pattern that resembled the petals of a flower. Alan helped her put it on and showed her how the clasp worked. "Fer good luck, milady." He said bashfully. "I made it for …" He trailed off wistfully, and Hermione knew who he was talking about. They hugged each other for a little longer, before Alan finally let go and ruffled her on her head. "Ya stay strong now. Go an' see the world an' find yer way home. I know ya'll be able to. Jus' be careful, milady."
Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice to remain steady and stepped into Mike's wagon. She watched until Alan and Rue faded from her sight. She wrapped her warm fur coat around herself and smiled. Lulled by the gentle sway of the wagon, she fell asleep feeling warm and content.
The soft murmur of voices woke her from her peaceful slumber. Two men were talking a little way off and she recognized one of them as Mike, his sandy hair contrasting sharply with the snowy background. She stretched her limbs, feeling blood rushing through them and slowly stood from her seated position. Neither men realized she was awake and she didn't want to intrude. Still, curiosity peaked, she strained her ears to listen to what was being said.
"-twenty silver and that's far as I'll go." The other man's voice was gruff and coarse.
"C'mon." Mike whined. "She's noble. Ya'll be sure ta git gold when ya sell 'er ta the slavers."
A scoff. "Lik I believe ye. Since when ye ever seen dem nobles 'fore. Twenty silvers. Take it or leave it." He spat on the ground, and shoved Mike back. "I'm done wastin' time 'ere."
Mike stumbled a little and shrunk back. "She talks all proper, I 'eard her meself. And Alan the hunter, he found her an' he calls her milady."
A flicker of movement allowed Hermione to catch a glimpse of the other man as he stepped away from the tree he was behind. He was wearing a hood and and only thing that she could see was a rifle casually slung across his shoulders. Behind him, a few meters away, a campfire was lit and a circle of men chatted around it. Each was armed in some way. Behind them, a cargo truck of some sort sat. A man was guarding the back of the truck and he was smoking a cigarette, all the while throwing cross looks in the direction of where Mike and the hooded man were talking. Suddenly, he spat out his cigarette butt and whipped open the back of the truck's canopy and barked something inside. The distance was too far for Hermione to hear, but she caught sight of what was inside and her heart skipped a beat. Children, naked and in chains. The man let go of the canopy and Hermione lost vision of them. Slavers. She didn't have to be a genius to realize who Mike was talking about. Quietly, she crept away from the wagon. Seeing her footprints on the snow made her curse that it was winter. She wished she still had her wand. Then she could… she trailed off. Curse the men? Save the children? She felt anger cloud her mind and she quickly relaxed herself. Anger would not help. First she needed to get away. She would not be able to help anyone if she was in chains. Hermione made sure her footsteps led to the main road, before doubling back and scaling a nearby tree with low hanging branches. Sweat trickled down the side of her face as she balanced precariously on the thin crisp branch. Please don't break. She thought to herself. Carefully, she scaled the tree and waited. Mike and the hooded man had reached some sort of agreement, and they began walking toward his wagon. When they saw that she was gone and found her footsteps leading to the main road, the hooded man had swore and smacked Mike on the back of his head.
"Idiot. She musta heard some'in. Ya shoulda bound her hands an' feet. Git outta ma sight." Mike whimpered and quickly left.
The hooded man cursed and spat on the ground before leaving. "Noble my ass. Prolly jus' a wench from some town." He headed back and called out to the men. "We're leavin' in thirty minutes. Pack up!" One of the man began to stamp out the fires while another went to check on their cargo.
Hermione didn't know what to do. The only magic she could use wandlessly were a few simple charms and even then they weren't going to do her any good right now. She knew the smart thing was to leave, find a town and tell them what was happening and hope they could contact the authorities. But she also knew if she did that, it would be a long shot for them to find these slavers. Luckily for her, the light was fading and the shadows were lengthening. Daylight was fading and it would help her sneak into one of the trucks. She needed to distract the guard at the back of the truck. Slowly, she took off her fur overcoat and grimaced. She liked it a lot and didn't want to give it up. But sometimes, sacrifices had to be made. She hung it on a low branch from a tree a few steps away from the camp and crept away and waited. Once she was on the opposite side of the trees, she sent a colored ball of light in the direction of her coat. Shivering slightly, she saw the guard catch sight of the peculiar ball of light. Then he saw her fur coat and swore. Muttering something she didn't understand, he trekked toward it while calling to the other men. They were busy packing and erasing traces of their presence and didn't react much apart from a shout. Hermione saw her opportunity. She quickly dashed to the back of the truck, heart pounding with each step, hoping no one caught sight of her. She lifted the flaps and darted inside quickly.
She hurriedly made a shushing noise and placed a finger over her lips. The children looked at her in surprise and shock, but they didn't make any noise. Outside, she heard the stomp of feet as the guard returned. "Was jus' a fur coat. Dunno who left it," here he laughed raucously before continuing. "But it's warm and smells good. I'mma keep it."
Hermione felt disgust and anger in the pits of her stomach, but gritted her teeth and slowly crept to the front of the truck. The children were now gazing at her in awe, most of them no older than nine at the most. They were all malnourished and filthy. "I'm here to help." She said fiercely in a hushed whisper. "I'm going to get you all out of here. I promise." The inside of the truck was cold and dark, a small slice of hell made real. Chains were attached to each of the slaves and the side of the truck. Who could do such a thing to these children without a hint of remorse? Something dark slithered in her chest, but before her thoughts were fully formed, one of the smaller girls perked up and spoke.
She asked with a hint of awe in her voice. "Ar', ar' ya an angel?" Her voice was quiet as a mouse and soft as a butterfly's wing. It sounded so hopeful that Hermione didn't want to say no.
Shaking her head slightly, she smiled mischieviously at the young girl. "Something like that." She held her hands together and cupped them. Winking at the young girl, she whispered, "Can you keep a secret?" The girl nodded quickly and Hermione concentrated. A soft glow began to emanate from her hands and a small orb of heat and light flared gently into existence between her cupped hands.
Murmurs and whispers broke out from all around her as the other children looked at her in awe. "I'm a witch," Hermione winked at the little girl and gently placed the small orb of heat and light into her frail hands. "And this… this is magic."
The young girl let out a gasp of shock and stammered out, "But… witches are bad." Hermione winced. Maybe she should have just said she was an angel? Too late now, she thought to herself. "Not all witches are bad. I'm a good witch," she said softly as she patted the girl on her head. The other children crowded around them, desperately seeking the small ball of heat and
light and Hermione felt her heart ache.
How could those men do this. What monsters could do this to these children? For the first time in a long time, she felt a deep dark desire flare inside her. She wanted to hurt them, make them feel pain and regret. She wanted to see them writhe in agony and beg for mercy, only for it to be denied to them… Hermione cut off that train of thought and slowly cleared her mind. Emotions were tricky things and it would not help her any if she gave in to them and did something reckless. That was Harry and Ron's job, hers was to be the voice of reason. With a soft rumble, the truck began to move.
She knew that the sun would set in an hour or so, and then she could put her plan into motion. She had counted four men, a driver, the hooded man who no doubt was the leader and two guards. The two guards both had a pistol each and a the rear guard had a knife strapped to his thigh. Their leader carried a rifle and probably also had a knife stashed on him somewhere. She wasn't sure what arms the driver carried, but on the safe side she would assume that they all had a gun and knife. Her only chance at getting them out was when they were on the move. She would have to incapacitate the guard at the back of the truck and free the children from their chains. Then they would jump off the moving truck, hopefully leaving the slavers on idea that their cargo had escaped. It would have to be done in the dark to prevent the three men at the front from finding out.
Hermione patiently sat, arms wrapped around the young girl holding the light while the others huddled around them. Some of the children were falling asleep, lulled by the ball of heat and warmth. The young girl holding it continued to stare at her in awe. The sheer amount of hope in that gaze made her hurt. How could she afford to fail now? It simply wasn't an option anymore. The girl's eyes were so innocent and childish that it wiped away any doubts on whether she had made the right choice. This must be why I was in Gryffindor. She wryly remarked to herself, before catching herself guiltily. I of all people should not let my prejudices carry me away. She had known brave people from all four of the houses, Gryffindor did not hold exclusive claim on that trait.
"What's your name?" Hermione asked the young girl softly and the tiny child gave a radiant smile. "Ma name is Eva..." There was a pause as she stuttered over the next syllable. "ge...gelina."
Hermione smiled at this and parroted her name back. "Evangelina?" Evangelina nodded rapidly.
"It's a good name. May I call you Eva for short?"
The young girl thought for a second before giving a toothy smile. "Okay!" She beamed at Hermione, who let out a soft giggle at her exuberance. It was amazing that the girl was still able to smile like that considering where they were.
After a while, Hermione decided it was time. Slowly, she clambered to her feet. The children gathered around her stirred and she motioned for those still awake to rouse the rest. "I'm going to get rid of your chains now. Don't be surprised and stay as quiet as you can." She looked all of them over, making sure they all understood before closing her eyes and concentrated on aligning her will with her magic. This would likely be the hardest piece of wandless magic she needed to do tonight and a failure here could ruin everything. A wide spread unlocking charm was tricky to do even with a wand, and she could ill afford to fail now.
"Alohamora." She muttered as loudly as she dared and threw both her hands out. Something invisible but tangible, like a wave of air burst from around her. Every single chain in the truck snapped open with an audible clack. Hermione froze. She heard the guard outside give a startled yelp. Moving like a snake, she weaved past the stunned children and managed to reach the back door just as the guard flung it open.
"Oy, what's goin' on 'ere?" The guard saw her and his eyes widened in surprise and shock, but before he could say anything, she knife-punched him in the throat with her knuckles. As he choked, her other hand released a round ball of light that flared upon contact with the air, blinding everyone in the truck except Hermione, who had closed her eyes in anticipation. As the man stumbled back, choking and half blind, she grabbed his collar and slammed him down onto the ground. She knew that once he recovered, he would overpower her easily as her physical form was nothing compared to that of a grown man. She went for his knife, pulling it from the sheath and quickly placed it against his neck. She flipped him into a sitting posture and slid around until she was neatly behind him. Then she dug her knee into his back, preventing him from gaining any leverage against her position. Her smaller frame aided her and she smiled coldly as he shook his head in a slight daze before freezing as the knife drew a thin red line across his neck.
Hermione was no stranger to killing. You could not fight a war, much less win one if you weren't ready to commit everything into it. Hermione had weighed her love for her two greatest and best friends against her humanity and chose the former without hesitation. But she never enjoyed it.
"Let go of the gun. Now." Her voice was ice cold and firm. The man instantly dropped the pistol and it clattered onto the floor of the truck. "Eva," Hermione called gently. "Can you pick that up for me?"
The small girl crawled forward and quickly snatched the gun, holding it awkwardly in her hands. "Good girl." Hermione praised and Eva blushed as she shifted from foot to foot. Everything was going well when Hermione felt the truck begin to slow. Her heart tried to leap out of it's cage and she felt panic surge through her. Did they hear something? Was it time to stop? Please don't be the latter, she thought desperately.
Thankfully, a man's voice called from the front of the truck. "Oy Nicolas, everythin' good back there? Thought I heard somethin'."
"Tell them everything is alright. You stubbed your toe against the side of the truck." Hermione hissed into Nicolas' ear. "Or I swear by all that is divine I will slit your throat and leave you to die here."
The man gulped and the movement brought his adam's apple in contact with the cold edge of the blade. Hermione slowly withdrew her knife a few inches away from his throat to let him talk. "Every… everythin'... all good." He licked his lips nervously as he yelled back. "I jus' stubbed me toe that's all."
A raucous laugh was heard. "Ha! Clumsy fool." The truck engine roared and with a lurch they were moving again.
"Good boy." Hermione purred into his ear before turning to Eva. "Eva, can you open the flaps?" Eva let go of the gun with one hand and used it to pull the green canopy open. The truck was moving at a moderate pace and Hermione judged it to be safe enough to jump off. She turned to the other children. "On a count of three, you're all going to jump off the truck. Make a line. Ready?"
Eva nodded and the other children scrambled into a makeshift line. Some were scared, others had looks of determination on their faces, but they all knew that this was their only chance of escape.
"One. Two. Three. Go!" The children leapt out of the truck, one after the other until only Hermione and Eva were left. Hermione pushed the man out roughly, uncaring if he hurt himself and grabbed Eva with her free hand and hopped off the truck. Within seconds, the truck faded into the distance, leaving them in darkness. "Give me the gun, Eva." She whispered to the young girl and felt the cold butt of the gun smack into her hand. Quickly grasping the pistol, she stashed the knife into her waist belt and conjured another ball of light and heat. Nicolas was on the ground, moaning in pain. He must have fallen onto the ground at an awkward angle. Hermione didn't feel guilty in the slightest. The other children saw the light and quickly ran toward it until they were all huddled around Hermione again. Nicolas gazed at with undisguised fear.
"What…" He stammered. "What 're ya?" His terrified eyes sent a thrill of adrenalin through Hermione and she felt her magic stir awake like a slumbering dragon. Ignoring him, Hermione did a quick headcount. Twelve mops of unruly hair meant twelve children which meant they were all here. Breathing a sigh of relief that no one had gotten lost, Hermione turned to Eva with the small orb of light. "Could you hold this for me, Eva?" At her nod, Hermione passed it to her. Holding the pistol firmly, she gestured to Nicolas.
"Give me back my coat ." Nicolas looked at her in bewilderment before realization dawned on him. Shakily, he removed the coat. "That light… in the fores'. Ya did it!"
Hermoine studied him long and hard and thought about what to do. "My instincts tell me to get rid of you." His eyes widened in panic and he scrambled to his feet shakily. His blonde hair swayed in the wind and she was struck by how young he was. He could not have been more than seventeen. He balanced shakily on his good leg and opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione cut him off. "Any man who could do such a thing, to children no less, is nothing but scum." Under the light of the orb, Hermione realized just how young Nicolas was. Sixteen? Seventeen? On the verge of manhood, but not yet a man. The baby fat still lingered in his cheeks and his eyes were too open for someone in this line of work. "But I'll give you another chance." Nicolas nodded quickly, relief flashing across his face.
It made for a strange sight indeed. A group of ragtag children led by two teenagers, one of which was limping. Behind them, a small ball of light provided heat and vision for the travelling group. Eventually the road led them to what looked like a city. Street lamps littered the road and buildings grew out of the trees. They continued walking and as Hermione pondered on what to do next, a flashlight appeared from around a corner and movement was heard. Quickly, Hermione extinguished the ball of light and heard Eva's startled cry. The cold seeped in, as the heat provided by the orb began to bleed away.
"Who goes 'ere?" A man's voice called out. The harsh glare of the flashlight prevented her from seeing the speaker clearly. As the light fell upon them, the man gave a start at the sight before him. "Children? At this time o' the night? Wha' in the name o' Lord."
Hermione was getting slightly annoyed at this and stepped forward. "We need shelter and food. If you are done gaping at us?"
The man lifted the flashlight and Hermione caught sight of his deep green uniform. A police officer. He was also hurridly stowing away the gun he had taken out. "Righ'. Come wit' me."
He led them to a flat rectangular building with multiple windows and a large wooden door that had glass panels on each side. As they stepped inside, Hermione gave a sigh of relief. It was warm inside, soft puffs of warm air banished the cold fingers of winter. Several other police officers were milling about, and they looked up when they heard the noise of multiple feet on the wooden floor. The police officer leading them was a stout man, his grey hair was neatly cut and his features were somewhat plain, had it not been for his sharp blue eyes that made look younger than he actually was.
"Barry, whassat ya got there?" A man's gruff voice called out. "Who'd ya arrest this time? By the Lord, where'd all these children come from?" He broke off in astonishment as he caught sight of the group.
"We'll need ta get blankets and food fer em firs', mind 'elping me out 'ere, David?" Barry, the officer that had found them in the town, gestured to the ragged clothes of the children.
"O'course. O'course. Isaac, fetch them blankets from the storage room. Paul, get ta the bakery and bring back some loafs an' milk. Oh an', Alison dear, can ya get Dr. Hart on the line." David directed the others before turning to look at Hermione and Nicolas. Hermione had given Eva her fur coat earlier and was now wearing a warm dress with buttons. He was clearly the chief of the police station, wearing a uniform that was decorated with several medals and he was much older than Barry. He was bald and fat, but a sort of cheery rotundness that made him seem harmeless and joyful at the same time. His personality certainly fit his appearance as he beamed at them despite his confusion at what was going on.
Upon finishing giving orders, he looked over to where the two teens stood. Nicolas was leaning on Hermione, still unable to stand alone. Quickly, his eyes glossed over Hermione and fell on the older teen. "Now then. What's going on 'ere?" The chief asked, turning to Nicolas. The young teen looked confused for a second, then froze. He looked fearfully at Hermione, unsure of what to say.
She cursed herself silently in her mind, she had been so caught up in making sure they made it safely to shelter, that it had completely slipped her mind what to do after. How was she going to explain this? The gun in her inner pocket would be difficult to explain. The journey through the forest would also be nearly impossible to explain. A ball of heat and light? Preposterous. Thinking quickly, she stepped forward.
"We found a truck." She began hesitantly, trying to be as truthful as she could. "These children were chained inside it just outside of town. Nicolas here," Hermione paused and turned to look at him. Apart from their brown hair, they shared no other similarity. No way to pass him off as a brother or cousin. "Is my guardian," she continued carefully. "We were on our way to London, when we caught sight of the slavers. Nicolas snuck into the truck and freed the children, afterwhich we ran until we came here."
David was looking at her sceptically. "Is tha' righ'?" He muttered softly in reply. There was nothing wrong with the explanation per se, but his carefully honed detective senses were tingling that something was not right here. Still, the girl and the boy were too young to be up to something nefarious and the children were indeed malnourished and mistreated. Besides, either the girl was a really good actor, or she was telling the truth. Shrugging, he put out his hand for Nicolas to shake.
"Ya did a good thing, lad." Nicolas took his hand and shook it warily, still not talking. "We'll take care of the children from 'ere. Yer both welcome ta stay and eat with em. I'm sure yer all starving from all the running. Barry'll take care of ya both. I'll be filin' a report on this and I'll need ya to answer some questions later." With that said, he turned and walked away.
"Sir," Hermoine interjected before he was out of earshot. He turned, curious. "Do you know how to get to London from here? I… we...have some family out there." She amended quickly remembering her cover story.
David looked at her sharply for a second before answering. "There's a train that'll take ya to the central station in London. It passes every second hour, til midnight."
"Thank you." Hermione smiled at him innocently and his expression softened a little. He turned away again.
"Barry, keep an eye on those two, would ya? I've a feeling somethin' is amiss. But no need to do anythin' just yet, they seem like good folk." He said under his breath to Barry, who nodded carefully.
"Consider it done, sir."
David snorted and slapped Barry on the back. "None o' that now, you were doing good earlier. Like I said, call me David. I ain't that old jus' yet." He chuckled softly.
Hermione grimaced as the portly chief waddled off. She didn't need to use legilimency to see that he was sceptical of her story. She had omitted quite a large chunk of it after all. Sighing, she relaxed. The important thing was that the children were safe. Besides, she smiled softly, there were worse things than lying to the police.
"Er." Nicolas was looking at the ground. "Wha… what're ya gonna do now, um… miss?" Hermione shook her head. "Call me Her… Jane." She cut herself from saying her real name. "We won't stay long enough for them to find out anything." She looked at him sharply. "..." Before she could say anything, she saw the small pelting figure of Eva rushing at her. Taken aback, she braced herself and smiled when the young girl hugged her fiercely around the waist.
"Thank ya!" Hermione stroked her hair softly, and shook her head when the young girl held out her fur coat. "Keep it, it will keep you warm over the winter."
At this moment, the door opened and a cold draft rushed in. Moments later, a tall thin police officer walked in with a bundle of bread and a case full of milk jars. "Food's 'ere!" He cried out happily.
While they ate, Hermione discreetly looked around the station for a means of distraction. She had a niggling feeling that they were being watched. David probably didn't buy her explanation and she had no desire to get interrogated after the food. Eva was also sneaking looks at her, as if reassuring herself that Hermione was really there. She felt a pang of sorrow at having to leave the young girl, but she was in no position to help the young child. Nicolas pulled at her sleeves gently and she turned to look at him inquisitively.
"What's up?" He looked at her perplexed for a second. "I mean, what is it?" Hermione amended hastily, realizing that the colloquial she was familiar with was completely foreign in the 40s.
"That police officer keeps lookin' at us." Nicolas nodded toward the policeman who had brought them in and Hermione found the man looking at them impassively. "I'll think of something." Hermione whispered back distractedly.
It would be so much easier if she just left Nicolas behind. Glancing at the thin blond, she contemplated leaving him to the police. He looked around skittishly and bit his lower lips before turning to her pleadingly. She smiled confidently at him, and placed a hand on his. "Don't worry. I will find a way." She promised. He breathed out and weakly smiled back.
Turning her head again, Hermione wondered how she was going to get out of this situation. Some flashly lights were hardly going to avail her here and basic charms, no matter how overpowered she could make them, would be nigh useless. A sudden thought struck her. Yes. That would work.
Grinning, she turned to Nicolas. "I've got an idea. I'll need your help though." Nicolas looked at her puzzledly. "No time to explain. I need you to distract the police officer, just keep him talking. I will take care of the rest." Pushing the still perplexed teen to his feet, she headed toward the restrooms. Barry made to stand and follow, but Nicolas quickly intercepted and blocked him off.
Hermione broke into a run as she rounded the corner and cast a nifty nightvision charm on herself as she approached her target. It was the central circuit for the electricity running in the building. The panel was secured by a weighty lock that looked quite formidable. Nothing an unlocking charm couldn't take care of. She scrutinised the different wires and bit her lower lips. She wasn't sure which one governed the lights, there were too many colored wires. Red? Blue? Yellow? Green? Oh for heaven's sake. Just cut them all Hermione, stop diddling around. Hesitation would get her killed, that was the first lesson she learned in the war. Diffindo. She focused her will and each of the wires snapped apart cleanly. Instantly, the entire hall was plunged into darkness and an alarm began to sound. Sprinting back the way she came, Hermione heard voices cry out in panic, but they were all swallowed by the shrill blare of the alarm. Spotting Nicolas beside Barry, who was looking around wildly, she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the exit.
"Follow me," She hissed as loudly as she dared. "Before the backup lights come up." They made it through the main entrance just as a muted whine informed her that the emergency lights had lit. "Run!" She cried and together the two of them sprinted away from the police station. They ran for a good minute before slowing down. Hermione panted, feeling her lungs protesting at her sudden physical exertion and turned to Nicolas. He was bent over, his breath coming in harsh gasps.
"That… was… brill!" He managed to get out and Hermione giggled breathlessly. "Now then, why don't you tell me why you didn't want the police finding out about you?"
The blond froze, and Hermione frowned. "Look. I'm in the same boat as you, besides, I didn't run away just so I can turn you over to the police again."
Nicolas shuffled a little before sighing. "All righ'. I suppose I owe ya one fer that." Together, they walked toward the town's extrance. After a few steps, the blond began to speak.
"Me ma was a cleanin' girl fer a rich folk. She got into it wit' the family's second son and got preggers wit' me." He paused and Hermione didn't need legilimency to feel the rage and anger in his spirit. "She knew it weren't safe so she ran. The rich folk didn' wan no scandal, so they hushed things up. Ma passed me to 'er sister and told her ta raise me as her own. They… they found her body in a ditch some months later. It was dem basterds. I'm sure o' it. I didn' know til a few years later. I ran away from home, and got caught by some slavers. Didn' wanna die so I jus' did what they said ta do." He shrugged. "Dunno how I began ta work fer em, it jus' kinda happened."
They reached the forest and Hermione turned to the young man. "What will you do now?" She asked him gravely.
He looked wistfully into the brightening sky. "Suppose it's time ta go home. I'm gonna find me aunt an' tell 'er … something."
Hermione nodded. "I suppose this is where we part ways. Best of luck, Nicolas."
The blond looked at her, suddenly a little nervous. "Me name's Jonathan. Ain't Nicolas." He spat into the ground at this. Hermione took out his knife and handed it back to him. "Best of luck, Jonathan."
He smiled at her and nodded. "Thanks, miss witch. Yer not like them witches in the stories." Hermione snorted at that. "Hmph." She watched him walk away and sighed to herself. "What twisted webs we spin." She turned toward the rising sun and shielded her eyes from the rosy hue of dawn's first rays. Finite. Her vision faded to normal and she began to trudge back toward the town. She needed to get on that train for London.
It was slightly chilly without her overcoat, but it was nothing she could not handle. She pulled her hood over her head and carefully walked in the shadows of the nearby houses. Finding the train station was much easier than she thought it would be, but the two police officers patrolling the entrance to the station put a dampener on her cheerful mood. She probably should not have told the chief inspector where she was going. Cursing under her breath, she slid into a nearby alleyway and spent the next hour or so watching them. At the end of her reconaissance, she was cold, tired and hungry. She was also sure that there was no way for her to sneak past them. They were fastidious and diligent in their guard duty. Why could they not have been lazy and undisciplined? The war. She thought to herself. Sighing, she thought about her options. She could try and use magic to disguise herself and sneak past them. She could try and wait them out. They would give up… eventually. Or she could try and follow the train tracks to the next town and board the train there.
If she had her wand, things would be so much simpler, but without her focus Hermione wasn't sure that her charms would hold under careful scrutiny. Option two was too dangerous, they would be sending out patrols to find her, she needed to get out the town as quickly as possible. That left option three. Hopefully the next town wasn't that far off. With her luck, who knew. Scowling, Hermione circled around the train station until she caught sight of the railroad. She made a small orb of heat under her jacket and began to walk alongside the metal tracks.
To London. To Hogwarts. To find Grindelwald. The Elder Wand. Hermione closed her eyes briefly. Red hair and freckles. Ron. To home.
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