CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Summary: Nine years after the war, Hermione's the Head of the Auror Department that specialises in dealing with Magical Creatures and fugitive Death Eaters that are loose in the Muggle World. With the fugitive Death Eaters no longer hiding in Britain, she's tracking rogue Death Eaters in the United States, which leads her to The Winchester brothers. The Witch and The Hunters are a dynamic trio that no creature, being or beast wishes to mess with, Magical or Supernatural. Hermione/Dean pairing. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I don't own original canon characters or events, just those that I create myself. Everything belongs to J.K Rowling and the creators of Supernatural. I am not making a profit posting this fanfic.
Page count: 8
"Hey, how'd it go?" Sam asked as they entered the motel room, Hermione immediately kicking her heels off her aching feet and collapsing onto the bed.
"We saw the bodies, in the words of Dean, it was disgusting. We spoke to the witnesses and I obliviated them," she shrugged.
"She also handed the detective on the case his balls on a silver platter," Dean said, leaning against the door.
"You did?" Sam asked intrigued.
"He was a prick," she defended her actions and Dean snorted.
"What you told him, was it true?" Dean asked curiously.
"About Collins and Murphy?" He nodded. "Yes, I was telling the truth. When I wiped their memories I went into their minds to make sure I hadn't missed anything and I saw flashes of their past, Collins is a war veteran and Murphy had been drinking at a party," she shrugged. "Anyway, they both gave the same recount of the incident. What did you learn, Sam, is there anything connecting the victims?"
"There is actually, the addresses you gave me were their current addresses, but I found they had moved here four months ago and they had all changed their names. That got me curious so I did some digging. It turns out the four victims are originally from Alabama."
"Long way to move, and changing their identities, that's suspicious," Dean frowned.
"I know, the victims all knew each other, they not only attended the same high school, but the same college, too."
"Interesting," Hermione mused. "So why did they move?"
"It took some digging but I found they were all involved in a car crash. The four had been drink-driving and they killed a man crossing the road."
"What happened?"
"Nothing, it was ruled as a hit and run. All that was found was the car that had been dumped in a river."
"So how do you know it was them and they were drunk?"
"Empty beer bottles littered the floor and crates were found in the trunk of the car, and evidence indicates there were four people in the car. I don't know it's them for sure, but the time line fits. I made some calls to their relatives and they all say they left in a hurry, without even saying goodbye, and due to the viciousness of the crime, I'd go out on a limb and say it was a revenge killing," Sam shrugged.
Hermione sat up and sighed, running her hand over her face. "I believe that you're right, this is a revenge killing and I think you've just confirmed my suspicions on the one responsible."
"So what are we dealing with?" Dean asked her.
"A heartbroken veela," Hermione said with a pained tone to her voice.
"A what?" They both asked confused, since neither of them had gotten that far in the book she'd given. Sam was close to the half way mark, whereas Dean was only a few chapters in since he could never sit and concentrate for too long.
"Veela are semi-human magical beings. They are incredibly beautiful women that attract the opposite sex, every man -and sometimes women- will be drawn to them unless they are immune for some reason, such as being a magical creature themselves. Veela have white-blonde hair and although their eye colour can vary, it's mostly bright blue, and they have skin that appears to shine bright like the moon. Veela are quick to anger and when they are, they turn into harpy like beings, growing a sharp beak, talons and wings will sprout from their shoulders, sometimes scaly, sometimes feathery. They also have the ability to throw fire balls from their palms and they are incredibly strong."
"What does that have to do with our victims?" Sam asked.
"There's only one thing that will cause a veela to react that way, to be so vicious and merciless."
"Which is?" Dean arched his eyebrow.
"Veela have life mates. Once a veela has come into her heritage, usually around the age of seventeen, she has exactly one year to find her life mate. They will experience unimaginable pain until they do so, and if they don't they die. If the veela does find her life mate and he rejects her, she will literally die of a broken heart. The veela's mate is her life. He is the reason she exists, he is her purpose. She will love him above all else, even her own family, unless they have children and she will be just as fiercely protective. A veela cannot control themselves if their life mate is injured or threatened, and when that happens she will change her appearance and protect him at all costs, even at the risk of her own life. Once a veela is bound to her life mate, that's it, she belongs to him, just as he belongs to her. They will share a soul; they can share thoughts and feel each other's emotions. They are literally two people sharing one heart and one soul. If another unmated woman were to go near her life mate, she would perceive them as a threat and kill them. Veela are a protected species and so if they kill to protect their life mate, they will not be charged, the law is on their side."
"So why would she do this? Kill these four men?"
"The hit and run victim, he was likely her life mate, and when he died her whole world came crashing down. She would feel as though her heart had been ripped out, her soul cracking into a thousand pieces. She's in unimaginable pain right now, and now that she's gotten her revenge on those that killed her life mate, she'll have retreated into the shadows."
"How do you know so much about this? You can't have learned it all from books," Sam asked.
"My," she frowned, "Let's just call her my sister-in-law, Fleur, she's married to Bill and she's a quarter veela, her own children are an eighth veela. Fleur is too far down the line to possess any of the traditional veela traits, except for her unnatural beauty. Fleur has insider knowledge on Veelas. Her grandmother had a life mate and when he died of natural causes, it wasn't long until she followed, but she had to watch her grandmother suffer. What I haven't learned from books, I've learned from her, other veelas who I've worked with or I've learned through experience," she shrugged. "The only problem I can see with this though is that her life mate was in the Muggle World, and as far as I'm aware, no veela has ever been mated with a muggle due to genetics and the need to carry on a line of magic. So that means he was either a Squib but with some magic potential that was very low, or he was a wizard that had wandered out of the Wizarding World and likely gotten lost, wrong place wrong time scenario."
"So how do we find her?" Dean asked, standing up away from the door.
"She won't be far, she'll have gone somewhere she can be alone and grieve, somewhere she'd feel at home. Veela enjoy being in and around nature, so maybe a park."
"And what will you do when you find her?"
"What has to be done," she replied, though she didn't sound happy about it.
~000~000~000~
They had been driving around for the last two hours, checking every park they came across and after the sixth one, Hermione was grumpy, tired and hungry. Not a good combination for anyone in her vicinity.
"Last one and then we'll head back for some dinner and start fresh in the morning," Dean spoke and Hermione found herself nodding in agreement.
They stepped out of the car and walked through the park, which was fairly quiet given it was mid-evening and it would soon be getting dark. They looked around for ten minutes when Hermione sighed, she was just about to call it a day when she heard a wailing sound, it was truly heartbreaking, and that's when Hermione knew they were in the right place.
"What the hell is that?" Dean asked, his hands covering his ears, and his eyes squeezed shut, just as Sam had done the same.
"A veela dying of a broken heart," she responded.
"It sounds like she's being tortured," Sam commented.
"She is," Hermione said sadly, and then she strode forward, following the sounds of the wailing into the trees.
Barely five minutes later they came across a woman sitting slumped over on the ground. Her clothing and robes dirty and covered in blood, her skin was a sickly grey colour, her hair looked dull and lifeless with blood covering some strands and leaves and twigs caught in it. Her bright blue eyes looked up and when they saw her face, her soft and delicate features were tear-stained.
She saw Sam's eyes glaze over and he started walking forward, she looked to see that Dean was stood there, not seemingly affected by the veela and he was watching his brother confused.
"Please don't do that," Hermione said softly and the veela snapped her gaze to her, before Sam suddenly stopped walking and he shook his head, coming out of his daze.
"What just happened?" He asked confused, walking back over to them.
"You were affected by the veela charm," she said, her eyes looking at Dean curiously.
"He is a mated man," the veela spoke.
"Excuse me?" Hermione said, her attention back on her. "He's a muggle."
"He is a mated man," she repeated, her tears still falling down her face and her voice cracked.
"Let's forget about them, it's just you and me. What's your name?"
"Lyra," she responded.
"It's nice to meet you Lyra, I'm..."
"Hermione Granger, I know, I was hoping you would be assigned."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "You killed those men because you hoped you would get to meet me?"
"No, I killed those men because they killed my Thomas, they left him to die. I knew that if you were given the case you would help me. It hurts, it hurts so much," she started sobbing and Hermione walked over to her and fell to her knees beside the veela, who latched onto her and gripped her tightly. Hermione soothed the heartbroken veela with whispers and the brothers shifted on their feet uncomfortably.
"I want to be with him, I don't want to suffer anymore, please make it stop," she begged.
"I will and you will be reunited with you love once again in the afterlife, I'm sure he'll be waiting for you." Hermione pulled back from the woman long enough to dig into her beaded bag and pull out a vial of what looked to be black goo that bubbled and moved. "Is there anyone you wish for me to contact?"
"There was only Thomas," the veela whispered and she took the vial from Hermione, before downing it and then laying down on the ground, her head resting against Hermione's thighs and she soothingly stroked her hair.
"Everything will be alright now, I promise," Hermione said softly.
"Thank you," the veela whispered and the brothers watched as she closed her eyes and she stopped breathing within minutes of taking the potion Hermione had given her.
Hermione checked for a pulse. "She's dead," she sighed.
"What was that?" Sam asked her.
"A mercy killing," she replied. "She would've continued to suffer with a broken heart for at least another two months before she died. I gave her a poison that took her life within minutes, and now, she's with her life mate and she's happy."
She moved away from the body and she stood up, pointing her wand and with a whispered word, she had the body set ablaze. They all stood and watched as the body was turned into ash and given it was a magically induced fire, the process was a lot shorter than usual. Afterwards Hermione put out the flames and watched as the ashes were blown away in the breeze.
"That's it boys, the case is over," she said tiredly and she turned and walked back to the Impala.
~000~000~000~
After stopping for dinner, Dean and Sam made a decision to head back to the motel, collect their belongings and to drive back to Cambridge, seeing as it was only two hours away. They would rather the drive and stay at Hermione's much nicer apartment, than spend the night in the motel if they didn't have to.
During the drive Hermione was quiet as she sat in the back seat, filling out her report so it could be sent off in the morning. By the time she had finished, it was close to ten o'clock and they pulled up outside the apartment complex which come into view the minute they stepped out of the car.
Wordlessly they followed Hermione inside and to the lift, where they met no one on their journey to the twentieth floor. Mimsy appeared as they stepped out, Hermione greeted the house-elf that acted as though she had been gone months, rather than a day, and then she left the brothers to their own devices as she headed to her room, showered and then crawled into bed.
She didn't know how long she had been laid in bed trying to sleep, but a knock at the door drew her attention. She flicked her wand to open it and Dean walked in, closing the door behind him.
He slipped into bed behind her, got himself comfortable and pulled her against him. Once again she was aware he had forgone all clothing but his underwear.
"You okay?" He asked her.
"I will be, I just hate these types of cases," she replied, and she turned in his arms so she could face him. "When I kill someone in self-defence, it's easier for me to deal with because I know it was either me or them, and if I was beaten, they would likely continue with what they had been doing. But cases like this, cases where it's a mercy killing, it's harder for me to deal with. I know that she would've died a slow and painful death, and I know I did the right thing in staying with her and giving her a quick death, but it still doesn't sit well with me. What she did, she did out of anger and grief and I know it was wrong, but it's the law. It's justified what she did and nothing would've stopped her. She needed to avenge her life mate's death." She fell silent, her gaze on his anti-possession tattoo as her finger trailed over the lines and ink.
"You're thinking about something," he commented, seeing the crease in her forehead. "What is it?"
"It's just something she said, it's got me confused and I don't like the feeling."
"Is it about the mated thing?"
She nodded. "Sam was affected by her pheromones, he was drawn to her; you saw the dazed look on his face. He wasn't in control of himself. Yet you weren't affected. She said that you were already mated."
"Maybe she knew about us?" Dean shrugged, his hand reaching up to snag a loose curl and tugging it gently.
"Maybe, veela are highly sexual beings, so it's possible, it's just her phrasing that I don't like."
"Why?" He asked with an arch of his eyebrow.
"Magical creatures such as veela, werewolves, sirens and vampires, they can all have life mates, though it tends to be rare for anyone but a veela to find theirs. When they are bound and mated, it's the same as I described this afternoon, they will share one soul. They belong to each other. They will protect each other and love each other even in the afterlife. Witches and wizards, we're humans, albeit magical humans. The magic in us allows for us to also have a life mate, depending on your magical ability and magical core. The more powerful you are, the more you're likely to need someone to ground you and your magic so that you don't lose control. When a witch or wizard is fated, they will never be able to find happiness with anyone but that one person and they will be in-tune with each other. Their magic will bind them together, so they share one power source. It's very rare that this happens though; I think it's eight a year in the entire Wizarding World, out of thousands of us -millions even- there's only eight fated wizarding folk a year. Harry is an immensely powerful wizard, one of the most powerful in the world and I wasn't surprised when he and Ginny married as soon as she graduated Hogwarts, they would've married sooner but Mrs. Weasley wouldn't allow it unless Ginny returned to school after the war to finish her education. I have never seen two people more suited to each other, and although there is no magical bond between them, I would say they could've easily been a fated couple, except they are not bound by soul or magic."
"So you're saying we're fated?" He spoke, his eyes sceptical and his tone of voice emotionless.
"No, as far as I'm aware in the history of magic, never has a witch or wizard and a muggle been fated."
"So why are you so worried?"
"I'm not worried per say, I'm just trying to remain cautious."
"About?"
"Us, it's not normal, I know it and you have just as much experience with the supernatural as I do, which means you know it, too. This thing between us, it's strange. The pull I feel towards you, I thought it would disappear or lessen at the very least, once we slept together."
"And it hasn't?" He asked curiously.
"No, it hasn't, if anything it's getting stronger. The more time we spend around each other, the stronger the pull is becoming," she sighed tiredly. "If it is magically induced, I don't know what it is, why it's happening or how to stop it."
"So don't, let's just see where it takes us," he shrugged.
"I don't really have a choice, every time I think of leaving you and Sam and going our separate ways, I feel physically ill," she admitted.
He frowned. "Yesterday when I upset you and you wouldn't talk to me, it hurt to see that I had hurt you. I didn't want to argue with you and I didn't like the idea that you might possibly leave because of what I said, it filled me with worry, just as it does when I think of you getting hurt or putting yourself in danger," he confessed, and she was surprised by it.
"I saw you at the night club, you might not have thought I noticed, but I did, I could practically feel your glare trying to burn those men alive, and today at the police station, I could feel the glare you were sending the witnesses and the detective and I wasn't even looking at you." She would've thought he'd look embarrassed or at the very least, contrite, but he didn't. "Have you always been this possessive?" She asked.
"No, I'm not a possessive man, never have been, especially with women, but for some reason I can't control it with you. I'm not attracted to other women either." She was surprised by that and he chuckled at her, seeing it written as clear as day across her face. "I look at someone and whereas before I would've charmed them out of their pants, now all I do is look at them and I can see they're pretty, but I have no interest in them. It feels almost disrespectful towards you," he frowned slightly, her finger reached up to smooth out the crease.
"I'm not a possessive person either, but the thought of you with another woman, it..." She trailed off, now frowning. He chuckled and moved his hand from her curl, to smooth out the crease in her forehead like she'd done to him. "I can't exactly explain it. It doesn't sit well with me, it not only makes me feel physically sick, but it actually hurts. We're strange, aren't we?"
He laughed at her. "We wouldn't last in the field if we weren't."
She sighed. "What should we do?"
He shrugged. "Just continue as we are and we'll see where things go. No labels, no pressure, no judgement."
