Author's Note: Thank you everyone for the follows, the faves, it's all very encouraging ^-^ I'm so glad there's so much positive energy here, and people are still active in this ship. Bunches of new stories are popping up, old ones are getting updates, I love it. I hope you all like this chapter too! (Sorry for any grammatical errors, I didn't edit very closely) Now, on to the story~
Warnings: Swearing, Blood/Gore
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of JK Rowling or any other copyright holder. All recognizable characters are not my own.
Chapter 2: Cusp
" It represented our ability to be just not good enough
That we had come to the brink of something beautiful
But fell short so many times,
We crafted a word for it."
Bianca Phipps, Almosts
Hermione's stress almost melted away as she sipped her espresso in the quaint Australian café. Almost. She thought back to the events that had just occurred.
There was so much commotion at the International Portkey Hub of London; she could barely fit through the doors what with all the burly men and their ever-so-important business travels. Who needed briefcases so large when extension charms existed? It seemed as though everyone knew where they were going but her! She was tempted to just apparate herself across the world and suffer the consequences. It would make a good sob story, she thought, though I'm sure Skeeter would find some way to twist it as always.
There were so many corridors that just opened up to even more hallways, which lead to chambers filled with various doors. Whoever designed this surely couldn't have been sane, Hermione thought to herself. Eventually, though she didn't really know how, she had found the Australia terminal. About bloody time. An official then guided her to the portkey, which Hermione failed to identify as something that could even be enchanted. These officials don't seem very invested in their work. Hell, I wouldn't be either. Concerned, she turned to ask the man if this was the right object, but he had already disappeared into the sea of people. It seemed she had no choice but to touch and activate the lumpy red mass.
Wait- why is it sticky? Is this- Hermione's thoughts were cut off as she felt a deep tugging at the pit of her stomach. All the colors before her eyes seemed to swirl together. Oh shite, I'm going to be sick. It felt as though all her limbs were slowly drifting away from her body, twisting and detaching, and the pressure in her head was building stronger and stronger until-
Plop!
"Ugh, Merlin I'm sure even splinching to death would have felt better than whatever the bloody hell that was," Hermione muttered to herself, facedown in the middle of the outback. She jumped as a skink quickly scuttled past her, only to be taken up and devoured by a raptor. Ah yes, the wonders of the Australian wilderness.
And so after one scourgify, one pep talk, and one dizzying apparation later, Hermione found herself sitting in The Kangaroo Pouch, sipping a cup of one of her remaining Muggle pleasures. Not my first choice of a name, but they sure make some good coffee.
She looked out the shop window and to the ocean in the distance. Birds danced in the sky, and the high tide gently lapped the shore. The sun made everything appear gold at this time of day. Her parent's home was only a few minutes walk away. I'd hate to ruin something this beautiful for them, it's so peaceful here… Hermione closed her eyes. But they deserve the truth.
Hermione wondered if the Wilkins would be any different than her parents before. After all, they were the same people in almost every aspect. Did memories shape who they would turn out to be? Did she shape the kind of people they would be? There were so many psychological and sociological aspects to consider...
Hermione was about to make her resolve to leave when she was broken from her concentration by a soft, friendly voice, and the quiet tapping of fingers on the table.
"Hey, ermm…. you ok? I don't think I've seen you here before. And it's not tourist season yet, haha. Mind if I sit?"
The stranger sat across from Hermione without waiting for an answer. She was just about to come out with a witty retort for whoever was being so pushy, but then she saw just who was sitting across from her.
"Oh sorry, I'm Lyra by the way," the girl smiled, the sunlight hitting her deep red locks in all the right places, and small freckles spotting across her cheeks.
Hermione gulped. "I- I'm not a tourist I was just here on… business." Business? That's the best you could come up with? So much for 'Smartest Witch of Her Age'. She felt a blush beginning to creep its way up her neck.
"Business? Hah, bullshit! Listen, it looks like you have a story, and it's not that often new people come into town this time of year. I'm sorry if I'm coming on a little strong but," she chewed on her bottom lip, eyes tracing Hermione's figure, "I just wanted to talk to you."
"And if I don't have a story? What then? I may just be a deadbeat, and the mysterious allure will be broken," Hermione joked. The words came easy now.
How is it that no one notices me after defeating one of the darkest wizards of all time, but I end up in some random café across the world and someone immediately takes interest? Hermione had to admit- Lyra was beautiful, stunning even. Her interest in the fairer sex was nothing new, but she just hadn't explored anything after Ron. After the war, she mainly stuck to herself. It's not that it was a secret, no one had ever bothered to ask, and she never bothered to pursue anyone. Maybe it's time I changed that.
"Even if that were true, I'd still get to talk to an attractive woman. I win either way, you see," Lyra pushed a strand of hair back, revealing a complex array of piercings along her ear.
Hermione met Lyra's eyes with interest. Oh yes, I will definitely be coming back to this. "Listen, now might not be the best time. I'm suffering a bit of jet-lag," a harmless lie, "and I was just about to leave to get some rest." Lyra opened her mouth to protest, but Hermione beat her to it. "Now just wait… You seem really nice. And I'd love to talk to you properly. So how about tomorrow, same time, same place, yeah?"
Lyra adjusted her brown tweed jacket, pulling out a pen. "Alright mystery girl, I'll be here. But if anything comes up," she began to scribble some numbers on a napkin, "Call me." She winked, flashing Hermione a wide smile as she did.
Hermione took the napkin, the tips of her fingers just brushing Lyra's. It felt electric, and she could feel a faint heat radiating from the spot where they touched. "Sure thing. And I'm really sorry I can't indulge you longer, I really must be going." Hermione stood up and turned from the table, and almost made her way out the door.
"Hold up! I never got your name, mystery girl!"
Hermione paused, That's right, no one knows me here… I'm nobody. The thought made her smile.
"Hermione. I'm Hermione."
Without waiting for a reply, she pushed her way through the doors. She was feeling like a little kid again, about to discover something wonderful and new. I can't believe I'm actually doing this… She was on the verge of something that felt so very alive.
~~~~~~~~~~-Liminal-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione walked down the few streets leading to her parent's home, or rather, the Wilkin's home (as per their identity).
The town wasn't very big; quite small actually. She saw empty storefronts that were closed for the season, families walking down the middle of the street, and curiously aggressive birds. She saw a couple of seagulls fighting over a piece of bread and chuckled, Can they even sustain a dental practice here?
As Hermione walked, she reminisced about times with her family before she went to Hogwarts. She remembered the warm August nights when her parents would take her to the ice cream parlor and get her a giant cone of her favorite ice cream: strawberry. She remembered how shocked her parents were when she levitated that first fallen scoop back into her cone. Whether that shock was from her sudden use of magic, or from the fact that she promptly returned to lick her now filthy ice cream, was up to interpretation.
She missed them so much these past years. It was hard, being thrust into adulthood alone. She always imagined her mother there when she brought home her first boyfriend or girlfriend, and she could just picture her father right now making awkward small talk. It was entirely cliché, but you can't blame a girl for dreaming.
It can't be too far now, Hermione thought. But as she approached, she could smell something peculiar.
Is that…. Smoke? Wait… No, fire! Shite!
She rushed around the corner in a panic, she couldn't be so close to her parents just to lose them to something as mundane as a fire.
But as soon as she rounded the corner, she saw it was nothing more than a large campfire in the backyard. The couple was setting up a relaxing fire before sunset, their backs to the road Hermione was on. There were glasses of wine and marshmallows out on a table near the pit; an odd but seemingly fitting pair. Her father placed a chaste kiss on her mother's forehead. Hermione smiled, they looked happy. They were safe.
Realizing that it would get her nowhere to ask two people that didn't know her if she could perform magic on them, she decided it would be best to perform the spell behind their backs. Just like when I Obliviated them… I'm here to fix this, once and for all. I will finally leave the past behind. She quietly stepped into the yard, taking her wand out from her sleeve. Good, it doesn't look like anyone can see me from here.
Taking a deep breath and carefully aiming her wand, she let her magic flow freely, letting it pulse around her. She had to concentrate, there could be no room for distraction. She remembered every precise hand movement, every harsh syllable; every day that she spent creating this spell, every night she spent pouring over books in the library. Putting all her emotion into letting them remember, she muttered the spell, the culmination of everything she's worked for these past five years:
"Memento egomet penitus!"
Both of her parents turned from their position by the fire, startled by the outburst of a complete stranger in their backyard. However, they were too slow to evade a blinding blue light exploding from Hermione's wand.
The initial burst of energy forced Hermione to step back; she had never used the spell at this scale before. It wasn't long before her fingers ached and her arms were shaking uncontrollably. She was fighting to remain standing. The connection isn't complete yet, I need to hold on! Concentrate...
Hermione's vision began to darken around the edges, her breathing was laboured. Please, Merlin, don't let me fall yet, please, please, please…
She closed her eyes.
One….
Two…..
Three...
And everything stopped.
When she opened her eyes, there was a thin blue chain of magic travelling from Hermione's wand to each one of her parents, encasing them in a pale glow. They looked calm, almost as if they were in some sort of trance. Is it working?
"Hermione?" Her mother looked at her with tears in her eyes. "I feel like I'm remembering something… very important. Why am I crying, Hermione?" She remembers my name. My name!
The restoration wasn't complete, but the spell was now significantly easier to sustain. Hermione took a deep breath and relaxed. I did it.
"Hermione," her father began, "our Little Lion." Immediately Hermione was reminded of the times with her family before she left for Hogwarts, before they were separated by completely different worlds. She wished she kept in better contact with them, despite all the divides. There was so much she couldn't tell them, so many things she had no way of explaining. But maybe her father would enjoy the dynamics of quidditch, and maybe her mother would enjoy learning about the the deadly plants in Herbology. Even if they could never understand, that didn't mean she shouldn't at least try. She wanted to start over, there would be no more room for secrets. No more room for hiding. Just her, her parents, and love. So much love. Maybe Harry was really on to something when he said that love would conquer all.
Hermione was overwhelmed with emotion, her mind filling with everything she did and could have done differentlly. It was as if a deep sense of regret was awoken within her. "Mum… Dad… I-I'm so, so s-sorry," she said, choking back sobs. I'm going to make this better.
Her mother was crying heavily now, with tears of absolute joy streaming down her face. "Hermione…. Hermione I remember. There is so much love, sweetheart. I remember you, oh my sweet baby…. I love you." Hermione felt her heart swell. It was working perfectly, they were remembering. Memories were flooding back by the second as the blue light pulsed.
Her father opened his arms up for a hug. "It's been too long without you. Come here Hermione," his eyes were as bright as his pearly white smile, "Come home." In that instant she vowed to never let them forget again. Memories were too precious, too powerful to just throw away. She couldn't rip that away from someone, even if it was for the greater good.
"I- I wanted to protect you, I want you to u-understand… I'm so, so sorry," Hermione couldn't help but walk towards her welcoming parents. This was better than she ever could've hoped. They would be sitting around the fire, catching up on each other's lives before the sun was down. She had her family back. She finally felt whole for once, just once since everything fell apart.
"Shhhhh, honey I love you… We love you."
Just a few more steps now, and Hermione would be reunited with her parents.
Just breathe… Let go...
One…. Her shoes softly crushed the grass underfoot.
Two….. She could smell the sea breeze, giving her the most pleasurable sense of calm.
Three...
BANG!
There was a white hot, searing heat as Hermione met her parents arms, and she was roughly thrown back. Ugh, what… Her head felt dizzy, and her heart was racing, pounding hard against her ribcage. Shite! I almost broke the connection, I can't touch them until the restoration is complete, it's unstable! She attempted to get up so that it would be easier for her to maintain the steady flow of magic. I just need to keep the pulse...
But Hermione's parents were startled, her focus was elsewhere, she could barely sit up, and she just couldn't contain the unexpected burst. Hermione could not be expected to keep everything together.
Too many things fell apart at once. Hermione didn't see a way she could balance this reaction quick enough; so many parts, so little time. If only she just waited a bit longer, if only she didn't lose her resolve to her emotions.
Her flow of magic was broken.
Time seemed to stand still at that moment. It was a fast order of events. First, her wand flew from her hand of its own accord, landing a few yards away. Second, the chain of magic broke, hitting everything within close proximity; the fire, the house, her parents. Third… well third…
There was chaos.
Hermione cried out as her magic let itself loose. It was harsh and unrelenting, and she had no means of controlling it. It was rushing out of her all at once, it felt as if her magical core was just draining away. She tried to get up, but she felt so very weak, her vision was beginning to go fuzzy again. She could hear faint voices in the back of her mind, or was it the front? I feel like I'm just sinking away.
"Hermione! Hermione! What's happening? Please, stop this, please!" Who's saying my name? Why can't I move?... Everything is so… black.
"Little Lion? Oh god please, no, no. Jean, I love you so much honey... Hermione we lov-"
Squelch.
Hermione felt something warm and wet hit the backside of her hand. What? She tried to lift her head to see what was happening, but she could barely open her eyes. Orange… Why is everything… orange…
The last thing Hermione heard before she surrendered to exhaustion was an ear-splitting shriek.
~~~~~~~~~~-Liminal-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The only thing that could be heard were the waves crashing onto shore in the distance.
Hermione ached all over. She swallowed, trying to relieve the dryness in her throat. Stretching, she opened her eyes, staring into the red sky of the setting sun. Guh, what time is it? It must've not been too long… She felt around, patting the ground for her wand, but was unable to find it. That scream… She immediately shot up, looking at everything around her.
This can't be right.
The backyard was barely recognizable. What was once soft grass was now replaced by blackened dirt and burning embers, the house nothing but a steaming pile of rubble. The street was cracked as though a large earthquake had hit, and flipped cars were strewn about. Looking further, other houses within the vicinity were in a similar condition.
Swallowing hard, Hermione turned to see where her parents were. At least, to see what was left of them.
Her father's body lay unmoving in the ash. There was a large gash across his torso, trailing down his neck all the way into his abdomen. His intestines were barely being held in by whatever shreds were left of his skin, and if it weren't for the fire having crudely sealed some parts of the wound, they would've surely fallen out. It was as if a tinted plastic film was pulled taut over his stomach, leaving all the innards to be seen. So much red, so much red, so much red, Hermione was shaking now. Blood flowed down his fingertips onto the charred head of someone underneath him.
Drip...
Drop...
Drip...
She only glimpsed what she assumed to be her mother- crushed under the weight of a beam on one side, and her father on the other, her skin burnt to a black crisp. All of her defining features disappeared within the darkness. All except for her teeth, which turned an ashy gray from the heavy smoke, exposed due to her now lack of lips. She couldn't bear to look any longer. Merlin, it's all over my arm, I can't do this. I need to move. Move, move, move, move...
Rising from her sitting position, she started towards the road. This was impossible, there was no way the spell could've reacted this badly to a simple break in connection. Hermione didn't understand how it could have wrought so much pain, so much destruction. It doesn't make sense, I- I planned, I did the calculations, I d-did the tests. Nothing indicated that this would happen, it should never have happened.
She walked further down the street in shock, stumbling over the rubble. The only logical solution is that- is that this can't be happening. But fuck, this was all too real. This was happening, she witnessed the aftermath. Every gruesome and unforgettable detail. I know this is real.
She wanted to stop, wanted to break down and cry in the middle of the street and just give up. Why was she even trying so hard anymore? Was there ever a purpose? Death would take his children as he saw fit. But she had to see. She had to see the ruin of it all.
Hermione took the quickest route back to The Kangaroo Pouch. It seemed so much closer now that she didn't have to follow the winding roads. There are no birds... She was breathing hard now, whether because of panic or exhaustion she didn't know, and the smell of burnt flesh made her gag. She knew it smelled revolting, but Merlin, she had never actually smelled it. Never, never like this. If there was anything in her stomach, she surely would have vomited.
The café fared far better than everything else she had passed. There still remained some structural integrity. You could tell it used to be some sort of shop. Only, the windows had broken, and the metal sign had fallen, digging into the ground. The letters were blackened from the smoke.
To think I just had coffee here hours ago... She walked closer yet to the shop, stepping on the shattered glass; she hadn't noticed the blue tint of it when she was staring out of it earlier today. It pierced through the bottom of her shoe, but she barely registered the pain when something else caught her eye.
A single body, decapitated by the sign. Simply the cleanest cut along pale skin and red hair. Blood glinted on the glass in the setting sun like some sort of undiscovered galaxy. She couldn't see the head from this angle, but Hermione distinctly recognized the brown tweed jacket and once gentle fingers.
No, no, no, no, no- Her breath caught in her throat, her palms began sweating. Hermione couldn't breathe.
This is all my fault. Hermione's emotions finally caught up to her, overloading any sense of rationalities she had. She collapsed, glass digging into her knees.
My parents….
Lyra…
Hermione forced herself to look.
There is so much loss here. I have brought suffering, I have brought Death. There will be no reprieve.
Hermione wept, clutching the napkin she received earlier that day. She cried for her parents, she cried for Lyra. She wept for being so close to making everything right again, to almost reaching the cusp of something so beautiful as love. She wept for everything that was, and everything that she almost had.
She crumpled the napkin in her fist.
Almost is never good enough.
Author's Note: This chapter felt a bit dark to me, it's a challenge to try and bring out the emotions I want. Let me know what you thought, it's not often I write this type of style. Anyway, I'm sure some of you can guess what's coming next…
Guest Review Replies (Since I can't pm you guys but I still want you to know I heard you!)
KSR: Thanks so much, I'm happy you like my writing style :) And as you can see, Hermione's meeting with her parents just may have gone a little less than ideal… ;)
ColorMeIntrigued: I'm glad you thought I could capture the universe well enough, hopefully this chapter does the same!
Mia: Thank you, I will.
