"There are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one's cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore."
- Nicholas Sparks, Message in a Bottle

Chapter 3

Hermione woke up the following morning with remnants of a dream quickly fading from her head. She planned to get her work started early that day to make up for the time she lost yesterday. She showered and dressed into a pair of light washed slim fit jeans, white t-shirt, and a herringbone blazer. She took her long camel coat, slipped a pair of flats onto her feet, and grabbed her tote bag which she had not unpacked from last night. She looked over her rooms before she left and something nagged in her mind telling her something was amiss. She saw the window which she had left opened the night before and bent to close it securely. After another narrowed glance and dispelling the thought that her window wasn't it, she turned on her back and walked out of her rooms. She quickly walked through the stone archways of her college, waved goodbye to the porter at the gatehouse, and stepped out into the main street.

Oxford was just waking up around her. It was a Saturday morning and students were savouring their class-free day by sleeping in. The usually busy High Street was quiet as Hermione walked west on its stone sidewalks. She could never tire of Oxford. The light stone facade of the hundred year old-buildings lined the street. Colourful signs marked the front of the shops and Hermione passed by a used book store, a computer store, and a small cafe.

She slipped between a pathway in between two buildings and headed north on Catte Street. She passed by the cafe she and Lavender met at yesterday and a couple more steps later she was stood by the fresh green lawn outside the Bodleian Library. Hermione glanced at the watch on her left wrist and saw that it was just nearing 10am. The library would be opening soon and she was eager to get to her work.

She jogged up the steps of the library and entered the atrium. She made a beeline to the main research hall and tried to evade Anna who was already sat at the call desk nursing a steaming cup of coffee. She really didn't want to explain her strange behaviour yesterday to anybody.

But try as she might to be sneaky, the Bodleian call staff had already spotted her. "Doctor Granger!" Anna exclaimed in greeting. She waved her hand and Hermione had no choice but to walk over. "Good morning, Hermione. Early start on your research?" Anna asked with a bright smile.

Hermione gave her an easy smile and nodded her head. "Yes. I have a lot of work to catch up on today."

"Would you be needing the same manuscripts you requested yesterday? You were barely with them for an hour!" Anna asked. At the mention of the texts from yesterday, Hermione's brows furrowed. She knew that what Olivia said was true. She should try and get the book out again and understand its magic but right at this moment, Hermione didn't think she had the courage to do so. She needed more time.

She shook her head gently. "I don't think I'll be needing any manuscripts today, Anna."

"Alright then, Hermione! You're the first one here so your usual space is still empty. Go on in and let me know if you need anything," Anna said. With a nod, Hermione headed inside the main hall and towards her desk at the back of the room.

She had been pouring over her notes for hours, her head bent over her laptop as she typed furiously on the keys. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and her tortoise shell reading glasses were perched on her nose. She read her notes, the gears of her brain turning as she connected points and formulated ideas. She glanced at her notebook and saw one title of a book circled which she had wanted to read for supporting arguments. Thankfully the library had multiple copies of this text and she knew exactly where it would be located.

Hermione stood up from her seat and walked to the stacks at the corner. A quick glance around the room told her the research hall was empty except for her, probably because it was the peak of lunchtime and the other library patrons broke from their studies to eat. Hermione made a note to grab some lunch after she looked at this book. She had missed her breakfast since she was too eager to work and her concentration took priority over her hunger.

Hermione scanned the shelves and spotted the volume she was searching for. The dusty tome was at the top level of the towering bookcase so Hermione braced herself against the wood, stood on her tiptoes, and reached her right arm up to try to get the text down. She wiggled her fingers as she inched higher but the book was just out of her reach. She exhaled in frustration as she lowered her arm and considered standing on the bottom shelf of the bookcase to gain more height.

But she couldn't do that, because that would be breaking the library's rules. So Hermione stood on her tiptoes again and tried to get the book down one last time. If she couldn't get this then she would need to find a step stool or enlist Anna's help to retrieve the tome.

All of a sudden Hermione felt cold prickling the back of her neck. It felt as if an ice cube was sliding down her spine. She shivered against the bookshelf as her witch's instincts alerted her of a vampire nearby.

She didn't have time to think, since the next thing she knew her nose was assaulted with the scent of sandalwood and bergamot. A hand reached from behind her and strong pale fingers grabbed the book she was reaching for with ease. She gasped as she turned around, ready to face the vampire that broke her solitude.

He stood five feet in front of her, his face clouded by shadows as he looked down at the leather bound book in his hand. His dark black hair was tousled on his head and he wore a dark grey suit that fit nicely around his frame. Hermione suspected they were tailored, since the man - no, the vampire - was tall, at least a foot taller than her, yet the legs of his trousers were at the perfect length above his brown brogues. A tie the shade of emeralds encircled his neck on which a tie pin made of polished silver was clipped.

"I believe you were reaching for this." The vampire said in a baritone voice. He lifted his head to look at Hermione and stretched his arm to hand her the book. Hermione was met with the greenest eyes she ever did see. His eyes were like the forest, deep and rich and lush, and Hermione was reminded of the summertime. Ironic since his gaze made her feel so cold.

"Th-thank you," Hermione stammered and grabbed the book with shaky hands. She held the book to her chest and the two figures just gazed at each other, waiting for the other to make the next move. Hermione had no doubt that this vampire knew she was a witch. It was hard not to with the keen vampire senses she had heard all about. He could smell her blood, and while she may not practice it, magic still flowed in her veins.

"I'm glad to be of help, Doctor Granger," the vampire replied, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a half smile. Hermione wrinkled her eyebrows. This vampire knew who she was.

"You know my name," she stated. "But I'm afraid I'm at a disadvantage since I don't know yours."

"I'm Harry James Potter," the vampire started, "Professor of neuroscience. It's a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance," he said. He offered her his business card and then his hand. Hermione took both reluctantly. Like the stories she was told and the things she read in novels, the vampire's hand was as cold as his gaze. Icy fingers encircled hers and she remarked at how funny their clasped hands look, since hers was so much smaller than his and his fingers completely encircled her palm.

"Pleasure," she said with a nod and released his hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my work."

"Would it be too much trouble if I joined you?" Professor Potter asked, his green eyes inquisitive.

Hermione took this moment to really look at him. This vampire, Harry James Potter - Professor Harry James Potter - was quite the figure. If she hadn't known any better, she would describe him as inhuman. Do humans, when turned to vampires, immediately look… predatory? Because that's how Professor Potter looked, even as he stood there unimposing in front of her. He was tall with a head of black hair and bright green eyes, the colours such a contrast against his pale skin. She spied a curious and faint lightning bolt scar on his forehead, slightly hidden by the hair that fell onto his face. He had a sculpted nose and pursed lips. His limbs underneath that perfectly tailored suit were long and lithe. Hermione could tell he was muscular, but not overly so. He stood so still and silent as he waited for her answer, his chest barely moving since vampires didn't need to breathe as much as their warm-blooded counterparts.

"So what do you say?" He prompted, an elegant eyebrow rising in question.

"You are free to use the library as you wish, Professor Potter," Hermione said. "But I must be frank. I'm not sure how you know who I am or why you would want to join me."

A smile graced his lips. "You specialize in the history of science and I am a scientist. I've read some of your work, Doctor Granger. Your picture is in a lot of your books."

Hermione raised her own eyebrow at his choosing not to answer her second question.

"You're a vampire, Professor Potter," Hermione said. "And you know that I am a witch. Our kind simply do not interact. What is it that you want with me?"

The smile fell from his lips and Harry's face turned serious. There was no misleading this witch, not that misleading her was his intention. He just didn't know how to approach her. He watched her from afar; saw her walking down the streets as she exited her college. He hovered around the library that morning, debating whether or not he should talk to her inside. Soon he saw that it was lunchtime and heard no sound coming from the hall except for her heart beating and the sounds of her laptop.

There was no better time than the present, and so he walked inside the Bodleian Library's research hall and saw her struggling against the stacks to get a book down. She looked so agitated and he could hear her frustrated sighs that the next second he was behind her with the book in his hands. He didn't understand why he did what he did. It was an invasion of her privacy and the last thing he wanted was to have her so guarded against him.

Harry looked at the witch and surveyed her from head to toe. She looked even younger in person (and in the light) than on her pictures, though Harry did know that she had just turned thirty. Tendrils of light brown hair fell on her face from her ponytail. He could see her warm brown eyes behind tortoise shell glasses looking at him warily, waiting for his reply. She was a lot shorter than he was but her limbs were strong and abled, evidence of the years of running and rowing which he knew from his research.

He leaned his back against the bookshelf and crossed his arms. Harry answered her. "Yesterday you found a manuscript which I have been searching for for many years. I want to know how you did it."

Her brows wrinkled and her eyes shifted to the side as she recalled the events of yesterday. How did he know what happened?

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione replied defiantly. She clutched the book she was holding closer to her chest. Instinctively she wanted to put as much space between her and this vampire.

"I know when someone's being untruthful, Doctor Granger," Harry said with a wry smile. "I can hear your heart beating faster. I know that you found the Chymical Wedding yesterday. Do you still have it with you?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and tried to calm her heart. "Of course I don't have it with me. I returned it before I left." She said, sounding aghast at the idea of breaking the library rules by taking a manuscript, and one as old as the Chymical Wedding, outside the safety of the Bodleian.

"So it's still here," Harry remarked, his green eyes sweeping around the vast expanse of the research hall. "Will you be retrieving it again? Will you show it to me?"

Brown eyes stared in question. "What is it with this book? Why do you want it?" What could this vampire want with an alchemical manuscript?

"So you don't know," Harry remarked, almost in awe. "Yet you were able to get it. How very curious."

Hermione let out a small, frustrated sigh. This vampire and the whole situation was starting to annoy her, really. All she wanted was to work on her research without being interrogated by anyone, let alone a vampire. He was also being very cryptic with her, his answers to her questions far from straight. "It's just an alchemical textbook. Look, Professor Potter. If you want this manuscript so badly, why don't you get it? I returned it to the library yesterday, so you are more than welcome to request for it yourself."

"That is my point, Doctor Granger," Harry said, uncrossing his arms and standing straight up to look at her squarely. "It's a great deal more than just an alchemical textbook. I've tried to find this book for much longer than you can imagine. I've requested for it over and over again here at the Bodleian. It had always been missing. Yet you, a witch who don't even know its significance, was able to retrieve it. I want to know how."

Her mind spun at what she had just been told. "Missing? But that… that's not possible. I had it yesterday!" And she remembered it very clearly too. The book with words moving underneath the pages. The two figures, one of gold and one of silver. And the magic she felt as she touched it; how the words flew from the page and into her. She remembered how the book made her witch's blood sing.

"It was bewitched," Harry said cleary. "Did you cast a spell? Perform a ritual? How did you break the magic that was keeping it hidden all these years?"

"I don't do magic," Hermione said, her voice steely and guarded.

Harry looked at her, his emeralds eyes meeting her chocolate orbs.

She doesn't do magic? Harry thought incredulously. He was reminded of her shimmer the night before and narrowed his eyes. How was this possible? Clearly there was more to this witch than what meets the eye.

Harry voiced a question which he already knew the answer to. "Will you get it for me?"

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Absolutely not! If it had been hidden all these years then there must be a good reason for it. I will not participate in whatever this is," she said, her hand gesturing between the two of them.

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled. She was a lot more than difficult than what he imagined. Granted, he did surprise her with his presence and perhaps he shouldn't have been so abrupt with his questions. She sure was a firecracker when awake.

"Just as I expected," Harry said. The sound of footsteps came from behind and Hermione and Harry looked to the front of the hall to see a library patron enter with her bookbag. Lunchtime had come and gone and the library dwellers were starting to return. "I think this is it for our conversation today, Doctor Granger," Harry whispered. "But please be vigilant. There are a lot of people who want this book. I wasn't the only one searching for it."

"Is that a threat?" Hermione whispered furiously.

Harry shook his head. "No, Doctor Granger. It's a warning," he said, and somehow Hermione believed him. "Good day," Professor Potter said, before nodding his head in farewell and turning on his heels.

Hermione watched him walk a couple of steps away before he turned and called over his shoulder. "Doctor Granger? Please eat. I can smell your hunger from here."

The vampire walked out of the hall with the witch watching his every move. Hermione tried to calm her still furiously beating heart, her face flushed after his words.

What just happened?

Lavender's fists were clenched on her lap as she waited with Rachel in her office. At precisely six o'clock, Rachel grabbed her wand from atop her desk and performed a complicated swoosh above the wooden surface and muttered a spell.

"Trans revelare."

A white mist left the tip of the wand and hovered above the desk forming a hazy cloud. A picture started to materialize in the mist and Lavender spied the back of a plushed chair placed in front a large window decorated with heavy tapestries. Lavender could tell that they were looking into someone's grand office. Soon after, a man came into view as he sat on the chair. He was finely dressed in a three piece suit the colour of oxblood. His nose was pointy, his lips pursed, and he had the coldest grey eyes Lavender had seen. His straight blonde hair was combed neatly and laid perfectly against the lapels of his jacket.

"Mister Malfoy," Rachel said in greeting. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. This is Lavender Brown, a witch in the Oxford coven. Lavender, this is Mister Lucius Malfoy, one of the wizards in The Council."

"Pleasure," Lucius Malfoy said, his voice surprisingly pleasant to the ears despite the demeanor on his face. Lavender could only nod in return. She knew who Lucius Malfoy was, of course, but had never met him before. "What was it that you wanted to discuss?"

Rachel looked encouragingly at Lavender. The blonde gulped before opening her mouth to speak. "There was this book from the Bodleian; a manuscript. I could tell it was really old from its binding. Its pages looked like papyrus and it had two clasps holding it close. It was small, no more than the size of both my palms, and it was… it was bewitched. I could feel how powerful it was from across the room."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the mention of a book. "What is its name?"

Lavender pursed her lips and her eyes drifted to the side as she tried to remember the name of the manuscript Hermione had mentioned outside the library. "It was… it was something Wedding. Alchemical Wedding? Chemical Wedding? Yes, I think it was called the Chemical Wedding."

His eyes grew at the name. "If it is what I think it is then I have been searching for that book for years. How did you get it?"

At this question Lavender hesitated. "Well… it wasn't me that found it. It was… it was my friend. She got the book."

"And who is your friend?" Malfoy asked, the impatience showing clearly in the tone of his voice.

Lavender bit her lip. She felt Rachel grab her hand and the older witch prompted her to answer. "It's okay, Lavender," she whispered.

Lavender's baby blue eyes locked with the steel gaze of the powerful man sat in his office across the mist. "Her name is Hermione Granger."

His eyes flashed and a small exclamation of surprise left his lips. "Hermione Granger," Lucius Malfoy whispered, almost in awe. "I would have never guessed."