A/N: I'm soooo sorry that it took me this long to give you a puny little chapter like this, but I promise that I wrestled with this chapter until we were both beaten and bloody. I hope that this cliffie (yes cliffie!) will be good enough to tide you for the (hopefully) short gap between this chapter and the next. I was having plot troubles, but now I think I have the perfect idea to move this along! (I'm so excited!) PLEASE enjoy this, I really did agonize over it! Thanks!
A/N2 This is re-post because I received a rather upsetting review this morning. It stated:
"Ok here is the thing. I'm pretty sure you're a girl so honey get your history right. If you knew anything at all about history(because i grant that you are a competant writer) which I very much doubt, you would find that the medieval times ended before even the 1600's began. So saying that it is 1832 and still medieval times is ignorant and stupid. Get your history together dear or when you talk people will think you are a fool. And I'm pretty sure you aren't that you just don't know anything about history at all it seems. So beside that god story. Enjoyable. bye" - Michelle
Well, first of all I call boys "honey" all the time.
When referring to yourself, all letter i's are capitalized as in "I went to the store".
'Competent' is spelled c-o-m-p-e-t-e-n-t.
I am a good writer, but you are obviously not, because your sentence structure is REALLY weak.
Calling me ignorant and stupid is a VERY bad idea.
When I talk, people rarely think that I am a fool and I'm sorry if you've had that problem in the past.
Beyond any of the things I've mentioned above, I'd like to introduce you to the concept of a typo. Say it with me: TY-PO. I realize that someone such as yourself might not be familiar with this idea, but let me introduce you to it. People make stupid mistakes sometimes. I made a very careless mistake and I am very sorry for that, but YOU made a very stupid mistake too. Let me teach you proper reviewing etiquette. Let us try giving an example of a review I might have responded well to:
"Ok here is the thing. I found your story quite enjoyable except for one thing. The medieval times ended before the 1600's even began. In this story it states that the date is 1832, which is wrong. This mistake is very distracting to the chapter over-all. Besides that, good story. Bye!"
I hope that this example helps you in your next reviewing adventure. I do appreciate that you complimented my story because I've been working very hard to keep it from becoming "your average ff.net love story." Oh, an by the way, 'honey', I started taking college history and English classes when I was a junior in high school, so accusing me of being a bad writer who knows nothing about history is a very bad assumption to make.
Lastly, if you could just explain one thing I would be extremely grateful. What exactly is a 'god' story?
P.S. Now that I have that out of the way I'd just like to say I LOVE YOU! To everyone who reviewed (even Michelle) because all of the reviews, complimentary and not, keep me writing. I promise to work on this blasted thing very soon and get back to all of you! Thanks! (Oh, and my error was corrected! :)
Chapter 14
~Hermione~
Hours later, we were jerked awake by two horrendous booms that rocked the caverns around us. I sat up, jerked awake by the resounding tremors. Maggie screamed and Ron sat up next to me, grabbing her from his neck and trying to calm her.
"What the HELL was that?!" Ginny yelled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
"I don't know, but I think we should start going again, something isn't right about all of this." Harry stood up and brushed himself off.
Another boom sounded through the caves.
"Something tells me we're walking into a big trap," Ron said, handing a blanket to me to transfigure it back into a cloak.
We quickly reoriented ourselves and started to walk again, the big booms faded eventually as we descended deeper into the caves. After an extended silence we all relaxed into our pace.
"Did any of you ever think we would be here? I mean, when we started out. Did you ever see yourselves here, like this?" Ginny hugged herself as she asked the question quietly.
"No." Harry said.
"Never." Ron agreed.
I hesitated.
"Hermione?" Ginny poked my shoulder.
"I didn't see myself in this exact situation, no. But I always saw myself with all of you."
Silence followed this admission.
"So did I," Ginny murmured.
"Me too." Ron shook his head.
"Yeah, I did too." Harry's face relaxed for a moment.
"What's that?" Ginny asked, pointing ahead of us.
Our heads swung in the direction she was pointing to. About a hundred feet in front of us there was a strange...something...shimmering and quivering in our path.
"I don't know." Ron started to walk toward it.
"Ron, don't." I heard myself say.
He turned back a bit and smirked, "So what are we going to do, stand here and wait until it goes away?"
"Fine then, if you have to be smug about it." I huffed and crossed my arms. He began walking again and my heart sped up.
"Ron, don't do anything rash."
He'd walked up to the shimmering wall and was trying to look through it, but was failing miserably. I walked up behind him and put my hand on his shoulder.
"I can't see through the damned thing. It looks like it's made of liquid steel." Ron reached toward.
His fingers stretched toward the barrier and as the pad of his pointer made soft contact with the glistening wall everything seemed to move in slow motion. The barricade came to life and reached out, surrounding his hand and moving up his arm with the consistency of molasses. All at once, the sounds of the surrounding caverns were sucked away from our ears and a muted whooshing replaced it. As quick as a flash of lightening the personified wall encompassed Ron's entire body and had latched onto my hand, unwilling to let go. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out and soon, the metallic liquid was filling my mouth and all of my cavities, suffocating me in it's ascent. Before I could register that I was unable to breath, I felt a rush of cold wind slap my face and a barrage of unfamiliar sounds assailed my ears.
"Hermione?" I heard Ron's voice reach out and test it's limits. I could hear the fear in his voice. I'd never heard Ron as scared as he was in that moment.
"I'm here Ron, right behind you." I willed my voice to stay steady and strong.
"What happened?" he was getting his bearings back.
"I haven't a clue."
I let go of Ron's shoulder and instinct told me to assess my surroundings. I looked to the right and saw a great expanse of land that stretched out to forever and met with the drearily clouded grey sky. The sight took my breath away with it's beauty and I gasped, clutching my chest. That's when I noticed the clothes.
I looked down at myself and my eyes widened. I was dressed from head to foot in garb dating back to the deepest of the Middle ages. My breasts were held at attention with a corset that say uncomfortably around my torso and tied at my navel. It was made of the heaviest wool cloth and dyed unevenly to a dark navy color that contrasted glaringly with the straps of my violet rucksack, still strapped heavily to my back. I touched the long dress and it felt so real. I got to the place where my wand pocket should have been and began to panic.
There was no pocket.
I looked frantically around me on the ground and found nothing but a few stones and a toad that was sitting like a miniature statue. Just as I was about to alert Ron to my missing wand I took a step to one side and felt something poke my inner thigh. In a frenzy, I reached for my skirts and flung them up in a bunch above my knees and saw that there, strapped to my leg by a cloth and lace garter, was my wand.
"You know, if I wasn't so bloody terrified this would be a damned good fantasy." Ron's voice made my head snap up and look at the eyes that were regarding me in my medieval attire. I saw a mix of expressions there including want, desire, and curiosity, but mostly, fear. Pure and unadulterated terror.
I shivered, but tried to look affronted by his admission.
"Watch your language," I said, grabbing my wand and letting my skirts fall back down.
"Is this really the time for discipline?" he asked, finding his wand and shoving it in his shirt.
Off in the distance there was a small group of houses made of raw materials and surrounded by muddy roads and piles of hay.
"Where are we Ron?" I asked.
"I haven't a bloody clue, but we'll never find out if we stand here all day." With that Ron shoved his hands in his pockets and started down the hill.
I stood for a moment watching him walk away and then realized that I would lose him if I didn't follow. I began to walk behind him and noticed that my feet felt strange nestled in shoes that were made of pure, worn leather and horse hair. My hair was tied back in some kind of plait and it hung loosely down my back. I quickened my pace and caught up to Ron just outside the gate of one of the little hovels.
"What are we going to do?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder.
"We're going to knock on the door and hope that the people who live there can tell us where we are."
I smiled and looked at him, "When did you become the one with all the answers?"
He grinned uneasily and shrugged, "I guess it was when you started asking the questions."
Without another hesitation he walked up to the door and gave three quick raps on the crude wood. A moment of silence came from the other side of the door followed by the uproarious racket of two or three people moving about quickly in a confined space. After several minutes of these crashes, bumps, and whispered voices there was a muted hush and then a voice rang out on the other side of the door.
"Who goes there?"
Ron looked at me, one eyebrow arched and then responded, "Just some travelers, sir! We've lost our way and we need some help to get back on our path."
"Beware weary traveler! We are armed with daggers and swords that are sharpened against any ally of Charmenmere. If you dare cross the threshold of noble wizards with the mark of Charmenmere then know that you have chosen your own fate." The voice was that of a man who was very afraid.
"I know that name Ron. Charmenmere...I can't quite remember..." I wracked my brain, but the intensity of the situation was clouding my natural tendency to recall pure facts.
"Listen, I don't know who this Charmenmere is, but we need your help and you seem like the kind of people who might help a fellow wizard. We're not from this part of the country and we're terribly lost. Please, can you at least have a word with us?!" Ron was trying to be patient, but I could tell his kind demeanor was wearing thin.
There was some hushed whispering on the other side of the door, and after what seemed like ages of waiting, the it swung open into the little hut and we peered in. The place was a cozy home made for four people to live slightly cramped. There was a small hearth, two small cots, and one large hanging bed pushed up against one wall. A tiny pile of wood waited to be burned by the fireplace and little wooden tinker toys lay, freshly used on the small animal skin rug in front of it. A little table with four chairs was pushed up against the farthest wall and a four-drawer dresser stood next to it, a small collection of figurines adorned it. It was a home. It was smaller than the dorms at Hogwarts, but it was a home none-the-less.
A man stood on the doorstop holding two sharp knives. A woman and a boy, no older than Ron, were standing at his back, shielding a small girl that was sitting under one of the cots clutching a little toy horse.
"Hello, I'm Ron." He stuck his hand out toward the man to shake.
The man looked at the hand wearily and nodded, "My name is John. Where do you come from?"
"We've traveled from far away, a place you've probably never heard of before. We're lost and we've no idea where we are or even what year it is." I continued to stay quiet as I tried to remember where I'd heard of Charmenmere before.
"You seem harmless, but we will keep our weapons and our wands close by." John waved his son and wife back and they dropped their weapons, but held them as they began to relax and settle back into the kitchen chairs.
"Could you tell us what year it is, and where we are?" I asked as John ushered us in and bolted the door behind us.
He looked at us suspiciously and then conceded the information, "It's October 12th, 1532. You've stumbled upon the outskirts of London. As I said, I'm John and this is Mary, my wife, Caleb, my son, and Lucy, my daughter. And your name, Miss?"
"I'm Hermione. It's very nice to meet you." I smiled weakly and nodded.
"You two look so young to be traveling alone," Mary said, letting her curiosity get the better of her.
"We are a bit young, but we're trying to get home." I could tell Ron was trying to be as honest as he could to these people who obviously felt that they were risking their lives by trusting us.
The woman was statuesque with dark eyes like pools. Her children both had eyes to match. They all looked at us with guarded expressions, but the boy came over to me.
"There is a man who could help you," he looked into my face and his expression softened, "yes, he could help you, in fact, he might even know who you are."
I looked over at Ron and he shrugged.
"Who is he?" I asked.
The boy smile and I saw the twinkle of delight in his eye and instantly knew why his eyes had caught my attention. I recognized them.
"He's our uncle. He lives on the other side of the hill in the next small village."
"When we get there, who should we ask for?"
The boy chuckled as though something obvious had just come to his head, "Ask for a man named Albus."
Now, if you can't figure out what's coming, I'm glad, but if you can, good for you! Here comes everyone's favorite part...REVIEWING! You know the drill.
I wrote a little poem about it, and here it is!
Take some time and write to me
it won't take but a little while
even if it's just to say "you suck!"
It will no doubt make me smile!
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!