A/N: Thank you! God its good to hear that someone actually reads this stuff! o.O
Chapter Four:
The time after dinner came quickly. Hermione found herself strolling behind Harry, who was behind Akira, in the dark dungeons. Ron was not present.
"Over here." Akira motioned in the same room that Harry had seen her the other night.
Hermione held her breath as a sudden foreboding enveloped her. Akira walked swiftly to the adjoining room. She motioned for them to follow. Then she flicked her wand, and the whole room was illuminated.
"Look at the bookshelves." The girl said.
Harry started towards it, Hermione following behind him. Hermione reached out, grasping an old volume with both hands reverently.
"Old Magick Surviving the Pillage." Hermione read the title, noting how "magic" was "magick" here. Harry looked over her shoulders, and Hermione felt the fleeting urge to move away. Harry was standing way too close, his breath hot on her neck. He seemed oblivious to her discomfort.
"There are many kinds of magic in this world." Akira said from the other side of the room. "There are, your kind of magic. Wizards and witches, casting spells with wands. And there are-", she paused, "magic that is connected directly to your blood. Spells that are not spells at all. Things that can be done without a wand as well as with one. I'm not an expert on this, but I will try to explain to the best of my abilities. Mages, Druids, Priests and Priestesses, Shamans… a lot more, you get my drift? I'll just dub them 'Magick' people." Her steely gaze was directed very studiously away from Hermione and Harry.
"But… but these people, they happened a long time ago. Centuries ago, when wizards and witches were given little thought, these shamans and druids and the like thrived on importantly, each minding their own business but secretly competing with each other. You know why the wizards and witches were given little thought?" She asked them, her voice hard. "I'll dub them 'Magic' people." She continued.
"No…" Harry said softly. Hermione just shook her head.
"Because they were deemed inferior!" Akira said, waving her arms. "They had to practice magic, or read about it and the like! They had to learn as if they were learning algebra or something! They are completely useless without their wands… Oh I don't know how to explain, but that's why they were deemed low. Then, for some reason, all those druids and shamans and mages were slowly dying down, while the magic people thrived… there are only a few believed to be alive, today. But that's not just 'it.' There isn't this that appears on any written record in history, but there is a race, a very old race, millions of years, even… what Dumbledore calls ishas or what is properly known as Krishvas. One way or the other, though, it's still the same. These are people who have weird powers. These are people who can tap into all kinds of magick, or magic! You get me?" Akira's voice rose with frustration.
Hermione held her breath in anticipation, and she noticed Harry had too.
"Do you realize how powerful these people were? They could be anything! A Druid, a Mage, a Wizard or a Witch. But they had to choose a specialty, or else they go mad. Or they could be their true selves. Tyriends have a different kind of power. Just like telekinesis, I guess… but… it's really difficult to explain. I've looked up in all sorts of books… but there just isn't one that mentions Tyriends or Krishvas…" Akira finally looked at them, her eyes glistening.
Harry and Hermione slowly went near her, where they sat at either side.
"Dumbledore… he says he doesn't know. I… I am a descendant of these people. I am the only one left. It was some unknown disease that kept killing us… and weird thing is, one of the powers of my kind is retaining some memory of our past lives. Scary huh? I can actually remember some time thousand of years ago when the disease first became known. And there isn't anything about my kind in written history. I wonder why." Her face showed grief, but her eyes were strangely dead. Hermione and Harry awkwardly folded their arms around her.
After a while, when they three were sitting in comfortable silence, Akira spoke up.
"That's why Dumbledore sent for me. Me. Because I'm the only one left. He seems to think that I could help him win against Voldemort." She said, saying the Dark Lord's name clearly. Hermione gave a start, then nodded approvingly as Harry did the same.
"Harry, last night, Snape was teaching me some complex spells." Akira suddenly said. "I'm handling multiple talents." She grinned ironically through her tears.
"That explains it." Harry said, thinking of the strange gateway. A small part of his brain focused on the rise and fall of Akira's chest, and Hermione's warm arm interlocking with his.
"I don't want anyone else to find out…"
Hermione nodded in understanding. She including Ron in that; she noticed that Ron was narrow-minded.
"Harry, can I join your D.A classes?" Akira asked tentatively, referring to the group that Harry had formed in their fifth year, whose aim was to know all kinds of spells that they were supposed to learn in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. They had disbanded in the end of the year, though Harry and Hermione had talked about forming the group again. They were already spreading the news. And this time, the D.A. would be an official school group.
Harry nodded immediately, Hermione not far behind him, though she frowned fleetingly before doing so.
"Most appropriate. You could teach them a lot of things, Akira." A voice said gently from the archway.
Akira's head whipped to it, then sighed visibly when she saw it was only Dumbledore.
"Professor, how do you know we're here?" Hermione asked, then thought better of it. He always knew everything.
"Oh, I just happened to take a walk down the corridor when I heard voices." Dumbledore smiled. Then he cleared his head. "Harry, I'm afraid Ms. Yamamura has been too humble. She is very powerful. Of course, with the exception of a few…" Dumbledore suggested slyly, before turning his back to them. "I'm afraid I'm too tired to stay and chat. Goodnight to you all." His voice floated to them from the other room.
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, then turned as one to Akira, who was deathly pale. She looked surprised.
"No I'm not…" She mumbled, color rapidly returning to her cheeks in the form of the color red.
"Maybe you could even be our teacher." Harry said slowly.
Akira shook her head vigorously. "Maybe I could help, once in a while." She mumbled. She glanced at her watch.
"It's late, we should start back or else Fitch comes moseying in. He caught me once, luckily Snape was with me." She said.
Harry nodded, and they slowly started back towards the Gryffindor tower.
From the shadows, Draco Malfoy stepped forward, a smug smirk on his lips as he watched the trio's retreating figures walk away from him. "My, my, my. Brilliant, I'd have to say so myself." Was all he said as he swept away towards the dungeons.
The next day, Hermione woke with a smile on her lips. For some reason, she was feeling extremely happy. She prepared herself for the day, the Sunday sun shining through the slit in the drapery.
"Come on, Hermione!" Ginny squealed beside her. Hermione shot her a look.
"What are you so excited about?" She asked.
"Oh… am I that obvious?" She asked impishly.
"Ginny… if I didn't know any better, I'd have said that you were in love." Hermione gushed out the last word, batting her eyelashes. Then she gave a disgusted sound.
"Oh! Course not! I'm just happy today. Have you seen Akira?" Ginny said, tactfully changing the topic.
"Dunno. She goes off mostly with Katie Bell nowadays. She shrugged. Ginny just looked at her oddly.
They went to the Common Room in time to hear Ron exclaim, "Where are those girls? What are they, what are they, snails?"
Harry laughed then broke off as he spotted Ginny and Hermione glaring at them. Ron just laughed.
"About time!" He said.
The Great Hall was filled with the usual morning grunts. As they sat, Hermione abruptly remembered her Diary, which was lying atop her bed. What if somebody reads it! She thought, fear crawling up her spine.
"Uh, I forgot something!" She bolted upright.
"Want me to go with you?" Ginny asked as she stuffed a pancake into her mouth.
"Nah, I'll only be a minute." Hermione said, starting off in great, brisk strides.
"Hello there, mudblood. Please watch where you're going. I already took a bath, see, and I don't want to get dirty again. Most especially with mudblood dirt." Draco drawled when he and Hermione almost collided on the corridor. Pansy shrieked hysterically, and Draco rolled his eyes at the silly girl. Bimbo…
"Stuff it, ferret-boy." She replied distractedly, her mind still on her diary. She would simply die if somebody read it. There were just too intimate things in there.
Draco cocked his eye at the retreating figure of the mudblood. Did it just ignore me? He thought, a hand on his chin, stroking thoughtfully. With a shrug, he shook his head.
Hermione hurried back to the Great Hall with a pleased smile on her face.
"Why are you smiling?" Harry cocked his head at her.
"Oh nothing." She replied, thanking the lord above that the diary was still as she left it.
Harry tried to catch her eye a few times, but then finally gave up, as she was engrossed in conversation with Ginny. Beside him, Harry noticed that Ron was shooting Hermione wondering looks. Harry surmised that Ron was still adjusting to Hermione's sudden bloom. This time, there was no denying that she was a very pretty girl. He smiled, thinking that Ron and Hermione ought to be together. He ignored the tightening of his stomach at the thought as nerves. He had something to look forward to. Quidditch practice this afternoon.
That night, as Harry and Ron sat sluggishly down at the Common Room, Hermione passed carrying a bundle of muggle paper. They were the only ones left, except for a few first years dozing off with their homework in their faces.
"What are you doing with that?" Harry cocked his head at her.
"Well, since I'm in the mood for it, I am going to write a fanfiction about Smallville, a muggle show, and pass it to somewhere someweher."She replied distractedly.
"Oh you mean that gorgeous hunk Tom Welling!" Ron asked excitedly from the couch.
"Oh that oh so sexy Kristin Kreuk!" Ginny sighed right after Ron.
Harry and Hermione shot them puzzled looks. Ron and Ginny seemed to realize the oddity of what they had just said. They were both as red as their hairs. Harry raised his eyebrow at them while Hermione gave a nervous chuckle.
"What are you guys now, the Bi Weasleys? Or all the way?" She said jokingly, though there were tight lines under her eyes.
Harry shot Ron one last odd look then he turned to Hermione. Homophobic... He thought, eyeing Hermione who was now as red as the Weasleys.
"Well!" Hermione cleared her throat dismissively.
They all went back to what they were doing before.
Harry was engrossed in conversation with Ron as Hermione furiously scribbled down on her paper. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny staring at Hermione. Then an odd thought popped into his mind. Is she checking her out? He thought incredulously. Nah… Harry turned his attention back to Ron.
"Did you notice her broom? What was it? Sure was fast…" Ron scratched his chin, a trace of envy in his voice. His own broom was a slow one. It was cheap, what could he say? Ron had always been envious of Harry's Firebolt. He was always jealous of one thing or another.
"No. But it was fast…" Harry replied. That afternoon, when he had spotted the snitch, he had zoomed with all his speed towards it. Then Akira was zooming by him just as if he was slow. She swung by the snitch, grinning at him. But unlike most guys, Harry didn't get egotistical and jealous. He had been impressed, saying so over and over.
"I'm sneaking out." Hermione announced, interrupting his reverie.
"Why?" Ron turned sharply to her.
"I have writer's block. I can't think. My story was going just fine, and then now I can't even understand it."
"You… you want to be alone?" Harry asked tentatively. When Hermione nodded, he asked, "You want the cloak?"
"Nah… I'll manage." She replied, and then swung out the Fat Lady.
The Common Room was dead quiet long after the portrait swung close.
Hermione walked briskly beside the lake, shivering and rubbing her hands together. Despite the intense cold, she was comfortable. She liked the cold. Hermione stopped and stood staring out into the lake, the moon majestically reflected against the surface. She was reminded of the story Swan Lake that her mother used to tell her at night. The thought of her mother made Hermione give a small sigh. She missed her family.
She stood there for a few minutes, drinking in the night. She felt trance-like. Then suddenly, a cool hand slid down her neck. Hermione, who thought that she was now daydreaming about Harry, gave a little sigh and leaned towards the hand. Then a second hand joined in, running slowly down her waist. Hermione sighed again and leaned her body against Harry's. She felt the solid body behind the robes, then the bulge that pressed against on her back. Hermione suddenly stiffened. This felt all too real. And the figure behind her definitely wasn't Harry. This one was much taller. With a confused gasp, Hermione pushed back and ran forward, then stumbled as her foot caught on a rock. When she turned, whoever it was was gone. If there really was someone there! She thought, thinking that she was going mad. With a shudder, she gathered her robes together and ran all the way back to the castle.
End of Chapter