A/N: The interest in this has astounded me. I'm so glad you're joining us for this ride. Thank you for all of the reviews so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Let us know what you think!
Chapter 3: A Deal is Made
They make a deal.
Hermione will play the part of the Sun Summoner and stave off their civil war and genocide in the process. In return, the General will allow her free rein of the place, as well as assist her in her research. She knows she's getting the short end of the stick, but she cannot tolerate the injustice that is sure to befall the Grisha if she refuses to play her part. She is just hoping she can outlast this until she finds her way home.
She will be moved from her dorm upon their return from the Fold. It is no place for a Sun Summoner. She is still not entirely sure how she is supposed to accomplish this. She uses her wand for most spells. The Grisha use their hands and that is all. There is a limit to the wandless magic she is currently capable of and certainly nothing on the level of destroying something like the Fold.
First, they need to alter the story being spread about the new Sun Summoner. Thankfully, all those who were observers of the incident that revealed the rightful one are in the same place. She is also curious as to this blight that she has agreed to help destroy. She has heard word of the Fold but has not yet seen it herself. She can't help but wonder if what she has heard about it rings true or if rumours have inflated the idea.
The first time she disillusions herself in front of the General, the look on his face is enough to make her laugh.
"Where did you go?"
"I'm still here," she says and watches as he tries to focus on her. He looks as though he's trying to see her. She moves around the room, trying to be as silent as possible. It might be rare for this man to be caught off guard. She reaches out to touch his shoulder.
The man nearly jumps out of his skin, reaching instantly to grab her. She darts back quickly.
"How are you doing that?"
"Magic," she says simply. "This is how we will make the trip. Since I should not be revealed until we have everything in place."
"That will be sufficient. Provided you do not run."
"What cause would I have to run?" she reveals herself. "We have a deal."
"We do."
"Then trust that."
They leave that day. The journey will take them two days to reach the encampment. Hermione has never ridden a horse before. A Thestral, yes, but not a mundane horse. She knows she will not like it as soon as she sets eyes on the beast. It is not a fair thing to call the handsome animal but the creature is giant. Hermione does not like heights. She prefers both of her feet to be firmly planted on the ground.
She nudges the General just slightly to announce herself as she steps up next to him. "Do you always travel by horseback?" she whispers.
He nods. "You will have to get on first," he murmurs.
She can't help but make a face at that. Logically, it makes sense. He can't be seen helping an invisible person onto the horse, and it is easier to tell where she is if she is in front of him. That does not mean that she enjoys the prospect.
She climbs on carefully and scoots forward as much as she can. Looking down makes her heart leap into her throat and she has to remind herself that she is Hermione Granger. She is better than being afraid of a horse.
Kirigan climbs on behind her, careful to look as natural as possible despite her presence. "We leave!" he calls out to the others that will join them. They are the same ones who first accompanied him when he left with her warning. They have already addressed the memory adjustments needed for those who have witnessed her here in the Little Palace since her arrival.
She holds on tightly, ignoring the heat of the man behind her and tries to move with the horse. She mentally calculates the odds of their plan working. She knows her odds of returning home are better if she has him on her side, but the plan itself..has about a seventy to thirty chance of working. There are too many variables for her to be certain though.
The cushioning charm only does so much. Hermione has never spent so much time on any type of creature. It made her miss cars. Desperately.
She whispers the spell before she speaks. "What can you tell me about the Fold?"
"We should not be speaking," he murmurs.
"I cast a muffliato. No one will hear us if they come too close."
"I see."
"Well?" she presses. "What do you know about it?"
He sighs, shifting slightly. "It is a long history and there is not much written on it. What is written tells us that many years ago the king took on a powerful Grisha as his military advisor. The man was power-hungry though and sought to overthrow the king so orders were given that he and his rebels were found and killed to protect Ravka from his dark magic. But they were too late. The Black Heretic called forth a forbidden power to ensure his own plot succeeded but instead lost control and the abomination of the Fold was born."
Merlin, she was so tired of power-hungry men. They gave no thought to those they hurt or used. Too many innocents always died. "If there is not much written, how do they know that that is the truth?" Hermione asks. She can practically sense his interest. "History is often written by the victors."
"So it is," he says, his voice low. He clears his throat. "The Black Heretic was a Shadow Summoner and his descendants have been trying to fix his...mistake ever since."
"You believe it was a mistake?" She can see the streak of black ahead of them in the distance. It almost looks like smoke on the horizon.
"The little I know of it has been passed down through my family. Some believe that he was trying to create an army, something to help the Grisha survive. Instead, he created a problem only a Grisha could solve. I would caution you, Ms. Granger, that any information you may seek on the subject of its creation is hearsay. There were no known survivors of the Fold."
She's reminded of Harry. She had read books before she ever met him on the train, ones that told how he single-handedly defeated Voldemort as a baby. It made no sense and the longer she knew Harry, and the wizarding world, the more she realized the truth. Lily had defeated Voldemort. The wizarding world could not accept that a mudblood had defeated their dark lord. It was far preferable for them to believe that a half-blood baby did over her.
"What do you think is the truth?" she asks after a moment.
"I think the reason for its creation no longer matters in the face of our growing need to see it destroyed."
There is still too much that she does not know about it. And if there are no books or studies then she will gather her own data, test her own theories, and make her own conclusions.
"Remove your silencing spell. We are stopping," he says quietly. He lifts a hand and slows his horse. "We make camp." He calls out to the others. He slides off of his horse with ease and while he cannot show himself helping Hermione, he at least keeps the beast still. She watches as he murmurs to it, giving her instructions on how to get down and where she needs to set up her own camp before she climbs off. Her legs buckle from under her.
She clings to the saddle as she tries to regain her ability to stand. She had yet to test her apparition, but it would be her next attempted feat, once she dealt with this. If only to keep the necessity of horses to a minimum.
It irks her to watch them set up camp. She can do this so much faster. The only reason she isn't is that she needs to remain hidden. Setting up her own is done in seconds. The wand movement is burned into her memory. The wards are so familiar that she can't ignore how something in her settles at the feeling of them being set in place around her.
Tears burn in her eyes. Thankfully she's alone and invisible and there's no one to see her wipe her eyes. It's not that she doesn't feel as though she is safe without the wards, but they trigger something in her. She knows deeply and instinctively that she's safer behind them. It's not supposed to matter anymore. The war is over.
It takes her a moment before she feels like she can breathe again. She cannot stop the panic that flares up. The problem with feeling safe behind the wards is the fear that emerges at the thought of leaving them. She cannot stay behind wards forever.
The thought pushes her to find the General. She needs a distraction.
She slips into the tent that has been quickly set up for him, following behind one of the Grisha in his service. She watches as Kirigan motions them all out. One of them stops and whispers something to Kirigan. The General nods.
"Ensure no one enters."
The other man nods and leaves. For a second, she thinks he looks in her direction before he is gone. She forgot to spell her heart silent.
"You may reveal yourself."
Despite the fact that he placed a guard at the door, she murmurs a warning spell. If tripped, her magic will spark. It won't be noticeable to any here, but she'll feel it. That will be enough. She lets the disillusionment fade.
The tent itself is not spectacular, though it is also not small. Nowhere near the size of the one she has placed in her wards. He moves around it with ease. There is not a lot in the tent itself.
"Can I offer my assistance?"
"It is unneeded," he says.
"Are you sure? I have ways to help, even just to make it a little more comfortable."
"I have grown up living far more roughly than this," he says before finally turning to look at her. "Save your comforts for yourself."
"Charms are some of the least magically expensive feats in contrast to the benefit they provide. I know my limits. I would not offer if I felt I needed it more." She says it as a simple fact. She's no longer the person who would give the shirt off of her back to another. Not if she needs it more.
"Indeed. What brings you to my tent, Ms. Granger?"
It is not as though she can explain that she needed somewhere that was safe enough without being behind her wards. She had a truce with the General. That was enough to settle a small part of the panic. "I...had a bad moment. Needed the reassurance of a familiar face before I turn in," she lightens the words with a small smile.
He stares at her for a small moment. "Join me." He motions for her to sit on the cot that is set up. Instead, she pulls out her wand. A quick transfiguration gives them both a table and chairs. He tilts his head in acknowledgement.
She sits down on one of the chairs and waits for him.
He folds himself down across from her. "You've spoken little of your magic. Tell me of it."
"What do you want to know?"
"How did you discover it?" He stares at her as though he expects her answers to reveal some truth she is unaware of.
"I knew I wasn't like other children when I was young," she says softly. "I have always been...academic. Or maybe eager is a better word. I wanted too much and other children...they don't like things that are different. I thought it was because of my love of reading, but things happened when I wanted them to. Like a book falling off of a tall shelf I could not reach. It wasn't until I turned eleven that I was told the truth."
"By your parents?"
She can't help but laugh. "Merlin, no. My parents were muggles. They didn't have magic," she explains. "They were shocked when we were told but something...something in me felt right. I thought that going to a school with others like me would finally win me friends. I wouldn't be alone anymore…" she trails off. How naive she was.
"There is a school?" he cuts into her thoughts. "For training?"
"There are many. Magic knows no borders and though we're a small fraction of the population, there are enough of us to require more than one place to teach the next generation. The school I attended was like many others, only the lessons they taught focused on magic and what we needed to know to survive in wizarding society. Well, not the customs. They expected us to integrate without any assistance...though maybe that was the point." So that the purebloods could tell far more clearly who was an outsider and therefore unworthy. It was an alarming thought, but not as unexpected as it would have been if she came to the realization years ago. Before the Ministry.
"You live openly then," he asks. "In society. Witches and non-witches alike."
"Heavens, no. The wizarding world had its own society. The International Statute of Secrecy decreed that we were not to mingle with the non-magical. For protection of course. Humans, as I'm sure you are well aware, do not do well with fear of what they cannot explain."
He does not look impressed. "No, they do not. From what you have told me, Ms. Granger, I do not see much difference between your world and my own outside of the fact that we remain in our war exposed to all while your people remain hidden from the world."
"That's not true," she frowns. He wasn't entirely wrong but she knew his meaning did not match her own. "It isn't so much hiding as it is just simply living our lives without the fear of non-magical people persecuting us. The wizarding world found it easier not to mingle." She sighs, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the panic settling in. "It wasn't all bad," she says softly. "There are wonderful people and incredible things. There are magical creatures that I once only believed existed in books like unicorns and dragons. There are people who spend their lives trying to bring laughter to others. There are sports and games that draw in crowds of people to celebrate their team winning." She thinks of the Weasleys and of Viktor. He was always so passionate about Quidditch, about life...about her.
She didn't want anyone in her place, but this would have been remarkably easier if Viktor had been with her. Not Harry, who attracted trouble like honey attracted flies, or Ron who did not understand the concept of subtly despite his cunning in strategy. Viktor would have offered his steadfast assurance and found a way to integrate himself with the people. He would have had a better chance of blending in and getting her the information she needs.
The yawn catches her by surprise.
"You should rest," he says.
She nods. "I'm sorry for intruding."
"Not at all. Thank you for the information. We have another full day of travel ahead of us before we reach the Fold. Be sure to be ready to leave at first light."
"Of course. Thank you for delaying your own rest for my sake." She casts her disillusionment again and reverts her transfiguration for the table and chairs before retracting her warning signal around his tent.
He calls in for a man named Ivan. As the man enters, Hermione takes the opportunity and leaves. Despite being unable to see it, she knows where her tent is set up.
Hermione walks through her wards with ease. She ignores the way the tension in her shoulders releases slightly as she does so. The tent seems enormous by herself. She goes through her routine to get ready for bed.
The loneliness sets in when she finally climbs into bed. There should be someone else here with her. The silence sinks into her. There should be another person breathing in the dark, or the sounds of someone moving around on watch. She doesn't sleep.
She is exhausted when they finally reach the encampment the next day. She barely notices when they stop. Her eyes are drawn to the dark that scours the land in front of her. She leaves the General without thinking, more intrigued by the Fold.
"You should not wander," Kirigan says as he appears next to her. He stares at the darkness. "What do you think?"
"What are the dimensions?" she asks.
"It reaches from Fjerda to the mountains in the south that border Shu Han."
"And how wide?"
"Each journey through it takes two hours. That of course depends on the volcra attacking."
"What can we expect from them?" Hermione asks, her mind running through the calculations of something this size.
"Death. I would caution you not to explore."
Hermione takes his warning but pushes it to the back of her mind. She has no need for it at the moment. Not when this mystery is before her. She reaches out. The General's man steps up before she can touch the shadowy mass in front of her.
"Moi Soverennyi," he says, "I have had to glare down several who are interested in your communion with the darkness. Perhaps we should save any further conversation for later?" His tone is dry and Hermione has to stop herself from smirking at it. Not that they can see.
"Thank you, Ivan." Kirigan sounds nearly as dry. "Your devotion to your duty is admirable as always. There is only one more matter to settle before we join the others in the tent."
Ivan nearly sighs. "Also, you should have our new saviour obscure her heartbeat in case there are any paranoid Heartrenders listening."
"A pastime you are an expert in. That will be all, Ivan."
Hermione loses interest in their banter and makes another attempt to touch the phenomena before her.
Kirigan grabs her wrist before she can touch the shadow.
"I would not."
"Release me, General. You will not like the outcome if you do not."
He nods slightly but lets go. "There is no telling where the volcra are in the Fold. I would not try it." She supposes he has a good argument.
"I would still need to enter, to make my observations and examine it further before I can help with it."
"Of course," he says. "We have something else to discuss."
There is always something else. "What is it?"
"Your name."
She turns to face him. It occurs to her suddenly that she is still disillusioned. "How did you find me?"
"Your magic," he says. "I can feel it." That is an unusual talent and one very few are able to do back home.
"Can you teach me?"
He does not meet her eyes but he nods. "We will add it to your lessons. Now about your name," he draws back on the original subject.
"What about it?"
"It needs to be changed. Hermione Granger is not a Ravkan name. We cannot give them anything to be suspicious of."
She has been playing at not being Hermione Granger for as long as she's been here. Adopting a new name would only add to the persona. "What do you suggest?"
"Maya," he says instantly. It makes her wonder how long he has considered this. "It is close enough to part of your name that there should be little difficulty adapting. "Maya Grankova."
The name sits like something heavy against her skin. "Maya," she repeats. She has been called worse.
"Come," he says. "It's time to get to work."
[tbc]
