Title: An Inevitable Fate
Chapter Seventeen: Taken
Author: KissThis
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Rating: R - maybe later...if I feel like it.
Pairing: Going their separate ways?
Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.
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Disclaimer: Still looking for that lucky penny to make a wish on...
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A/N: Nothing in particular that needs to be said...
[earlier]
Empty eyes stared unblinkingly at them out of the darkness. A tendril of icy blue hair floated into the light and Hermione ceased to be afraid.
"Postvorta." She breathed in relief.
The water sprite leaned out of the shadows and Harry too relaxed.
"I'm sorry if I scared you, Hermione, and I hope I did not hurt you."
"It's quite all right." Hermione insisted.
Postvorta shook her head and her sinewy arms floated across her chest. "No. You are in danger, Sovereign."
"Danger?!" Harry's hand immediately went to his wand. Adrenaline pumped through Hermione's veins and the core of power inside her flared to life. It roared in her ears, but she seemed to hear everything else at the same time.
"There is a deadly trap that awaits you at the Ministry -- we cannot stay here."
Her voice remained the same, alluring and ethereal, and her eyes never lost their emptiness, but Hermione could sense the nymph's anxiety and apprehension.
"Take my hands."
With complete trust Hermoine laid her hand in the nymph's and looked over at Harry. He grabbed her hand first and then hesitantly placed his hand in Postvorta's. The last thing Hermione heard was "...someone should have been with you..." before their palms touched and the world dropped away.
Hermione screamed as she was dragged through a roaring whirlwind of cresting water. Harry's hand slipped from hers and her eyes blurred until all she saw was the blinding blue of the vortex through which she was being pulled. Only Postvorta's grip kept her from spinning off. Hermione's whole arm was tingling, but even then it felt like it was almost to be ripped from its socket.
And then her soaked body was being whipped with warm air just shortly before her body connected with rocky ground. Her bodily functions had shut down and her legs wouldn't even support her as she landed and she fell to her hands and knees.
Hermione coughed violently. Kneeling on the ground, dry heaves racked her body. Harry was going through a similar reaction beside her, but he had managed to stay standing after the rude ejection. Postvorta hovered passively at Hermione's side waiting for the shock to pass through the young woman's body.
Hermione's mind reeled. The rain had suddenly disappeared and her pants of breath were no longer visible; the icy night was now warm and calm. The shudders stopped and she got slowly up onto uneasy feet. She wobbled slightly and wiped her dry lips with the back of her hand.
"Are you ready, Sovereign?"
Hermione opened her mouth to reply but snapped it shut again as her stomach rolled. Harry took up the open question.
"What the hell was that?!" He was hunched slightly and his arms were crossed over his stomach to put pressure on his own churning insides.
"It's the water tunnel my species uses to travel through space and matter."
Postvorta placed a watery hand at the base of Hermione's neck. It was a cold, cooling touch that chilled the perspiration and rain on her skin and soothed the pounding in her temples. The nymph's power tingled through her body and Hermione's stomach quieted.
"We could've apparated!" Harry argued.
Hermione raised a hand to silence him, "She got us here...wherever we are."
"We are in France." Postvorta supplied stiffly.
"Well, we're certainly not in Kansas anymore..." Harry muttered.
Hermione gave Harry a reprimanding look and nodded at Postvorta. "We're in France, and that's all that matters."
Harry threw his hands up in defeat. Hermione gave a small laugh.
"Besides," Postvorta added. "You haven't finished your apparation training."
"So?" Harry retorted sullenly.
"It would have taken too long. My way was faster." She stated confidently.
Hermione slapped a hand over Harry's mouth before he could say anything that would most likely get his ass kicked, and smiled. "Just warn us next time."
Postvorta's arms floated up to her face, and Hermione interpreted that as a smile -- for the nymph's face remained as empty as ever.
"Yes, Sovereign."
"Now let's find Beauxbatons." Hermione stopped shivering, "It's a lot warmer her than in Scotland -- wherever here is."
"The Beauxbatons' Academy of Magic is located in northwestern France. Because of its enclosed position -- this part of France is exceptionally prone to long spells of fair weather, even in the off season." Postvorta explained, gesturing ahead.
Harry nodded slowly, "They did look awfully cold when they came for the Triwizard."
Hermione bobbed her head in agreement. Feeling the warm night air seeping into her soaked clothing she shrugged off her slick coat and draped it over her arm m-- careful not to spill any of her shrunken luggage. She gave her legs a small shake and started off in the direction Postvorta had indicated -- up a hill. Harry motioned Postvorta to follow first and then fell into step behind the nymph. One-by-one they crested the great hill and looked down in wonder and envious awe at the lush valley in which Beauxbatons' Castle was nestled.
La Vie Valley was every rich shade of green Hermione could imagine. A path, lined with tall grasses dotted with baby's breath, led down the gentle slope of the bowl-shaped valley and right up to the castle's front door. A lake, smaller than Hogwarts' -- but a clearer blue -- sat undisturbed to the left of the path. Two, great, sweeping willows were rooted deeply in its bank -- their sinewy branches dragging in the water; sectioning off a small lagoon. Watercress and reeds bordered the water's edge and trickled out into the brighter, more vivid, flowers in the valley.
Color and flora defined La Vie Valley and the scent of their perfume hung heavily in the humid air. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It filled her nose and overloaded her sense. Green spots danced beneath her eyelids. She opened her eyes and exhaled slowly. She couldn't wait to see it in the daylight.
"Ready?" Harry's breath was warm against her cheek. She tilted her face up to meet his gaze. She smiled softly, "As ready as I can be."
She started down the path, but Postvorta stopped her. "You are going as a human?"
"What's wrong with being human? I was human long before I was ever the Sovereign of Light." Hermione knew the nymph's words hadn't been intended to offend, but her voice came out sharp and cold.
Postvorta stared blankly back -- to all appearances nonplussed about Hermione's tone. "The past has fallen -- live in the now...prepare for the future."
"I will go as I am." Hermione said quietly.
Postvorta shook her head; "It is not wise. Awaken your power."
"I will not." Hermione's voice was soft, but firm. "Beauxbatons is a proud school. We would receive a less than savory welcome if we barged into their home appearing better than them. Making them feel inferior is no way to obtain their allegiance. No...we will go as we are."
She started down the path with Harry at her side. Postvorta trailed eerily behind -- her watery eyes scanning the valley.
As if noting the nymph's wariness, Hermione motioned her forward. "Your vigilance is admired, but you needn't bother, Postvorta. They're already aware of our presence. They knew we were here the moment we arrived."
"You know these creatures better than I," Postvorta conceded indifferently.
"If the time comes...I will reveal myself," Hermione told the nymph, "But not before."
"Heads up," Harry nudged her with his elbow, "The welcoming committee's arrived."
Hermione's eyes darted over the group that had gathered outside the castle's doors. Six people waited; two of them adults, the other four students. Hermione only recognized one. The massive form of Madam Maxime was a hard one to forget and her distinct silhouette in the moonlight was enough to identify her.
Hermione stopped at, what she deemed, a respectable distance from the stone steps and gave a dignified curtsy -- hoping they would overlook her appearance of a drowned cat. The tall, spindly man murmured something in Madam Maxime's ear.
"Pourqoui le garcon n'avance pas? Qui est cette fille qui voyage avec des nymphes ?"
"Madam Maxime," Hermione said reverently; rising. "Please forgive the intrusion -- I am Hermione Granger."
A/N: Another short one…but I'm doing my best!!
A/N Jan. 13, 2004: Corrected my poor French – thanks American-Royalty!
French: Why does the boy not step forward? Who is this girl that travels with nymphs?
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KissThis