Chapter Eight
September, 1930
Mourning Shen Li had Hermione wandering with no real goal. She'd traveled as a muggle, but having been exposed to magic once more Hermione felt a palpable urge to remain close to it. After weeks of travel she'd entered the wizarding city of Derbent, a city that the muggles claimed was the oldest in all Russia.
Derbent's placement was militarily and economically strategic, Hermione had marveled as she walked the streets. Dominating a skimpy strip of flat land locked between the wide Caspian Sea and the craggy Caucasus Mountains, Derbent was once a hub that The Silk Road had run through.
Unfortunately, time wore on and what was long ago a thriving, flourishing major hub was now more of a crumbling, tired city. The history was rich, and so was the culture. But the true draw, for Hermione, was the underground wizarding side of the city.
She stepped off the main road into an alleyway, footsteps echoing off the walls of the buildings as she passed. Once she was through the city she passed through a gate, the giant wall that protected the city still standing, but not whole.
In the future, the forested area she steps into would become an extension of the city. Industries and families would come and they would build outwards. She'd never been here in her time, but she wondered how the wizarding part of the region would adapt to the change as more muggles tore through the forest shroud and came close to the entrance of wizarding Derbent.
Hermione broke free of the treeline into a clearing, glancing at the hut with a smile. An old, rickety home, standing on the legs of a chicken. All around the property and into the surrounding forest was littered with skeletons.
The muggles got that part of Baba Yaga's legend correct.
The truth was that Baba Yaga was actually a triumvirate of Crone witches that represented the Russian Wizarding World. Kind of like the Minister for Magic in Britain, Baba Yaga's were voted in by the population, democratically elected in intervals of a decade, though they could be reelected every decade for their entire life if the population chose so.
Hermione found it fascinating. She'd learned many times over her travels through the past that Hogwarts had woefully underprepared her in understanding other wizarding cultures. France hadn't been much different than England. But China and Russia were so very unique and fresh that they made Diagon Alley seem borderline underdeveloped.
It was one of those rare moments she was happy to have had the opportunity to explore the world. Had she remained in her own time she would've been sitting at a desk in the Ministry, getting blocked on legislative proposals her entire life.
The rotting wooden steps of Baba Yaga's hut creaked and sunk dangerously as she made her way towards the door. Of course, the wizarding world had capitalized on her story and utilized it to hide the entrance into their world. For the traveling witch or wizard, all one had to do was make way up the rickety steps and walk through the front door and they would be immersed into the Russian Wizarding city of Derbent.
A muggle coming across this would meet with the fright of their life, she'd been told. They'd meet with a crone witch, draped in furs and sheep skins, who would show them visions of a dead relative, whomever their mind conjured up as someone close to them they'd lost. That vision would end with how the mind imagined their death, forcing the muggle to relive it.
Afterward, the house would stand, the chicken legs raising, and chase the muggle out of the forest. It was traumatic and emotional, meant to deter them from ever returning.
Hermione didn't need to find a way to test it to know who she'd see, and merely the thought hurt enough to deter her.
"Sasha."
Hermione looked up from her book, a treatise on the effective use of blood magic in enhancement of the healing arts, to see her most recent beau; Dimitri Sokolov. Sans shirt, her eyes raked down his toned, slim figure appreciatively. He sent her a cocky smirk as he invited himself to sit with her.
"Good morning," she smiled, "there's tea, bacon, and eggs on the stove."
She hadn't intended to sleep with a wizard, ever. She'd stumbled upon Dimitri in a back alley on the outskirts of wizarding Derbent fighting off a group of six Grindelwald supporters. Grindelwald had marked Dimitri as someone worth recruiting, and rightfully so. The man was a virtual powerhouse of magical and physical ability. He'd been trained in several different martial arts practices and graduated Durmstang at the top of his class, majoring in the practical application of Dark Arts and Defense Against, with no competition.
He was holding his own in the fight she stumbled upon, but struggling, so she'd stepped in to help and he'd followed her around enthralled ever since. After a few months of following her around and making himself a nuisance, she'd decided to allow him closer.
Pretty soon she'd decided she could learn some things from him (realizing that while she was magically and mentally strong, she was physically rather weak) and asked him to teach her self defense, the muggle kind. And to Dimitri, grappling with her on a dojo mat sounded like heaven on earth and he'd rapidly agreed.
After a few months of training and getting to know each other, they'd fallen into bed. Now she stays with him more often then she returns to her own small efficiency flat.
Dimitri made a hum of acknowledgement, but didn't move. His green eyes, just a few shades lighter than Harry's, bore into her. His hand settled on her exposed leg, where her robe had fallen aside as she read, and ran up to her hip. Her skin tingled in his wake, her mind conjuring images of their lovemaking from the night before and she shivered.
She saw him move closer, his mouth skimming gently between her shoulder and neck, the scruff on his face tickling her as warm lips trailed from her neck to her ear. Teeth and tongue stroked the appendage, setting her nerves alight.
"I'd rather have you now, and breakfast later, УмницаI." His deep, husky voice had goosebumps rising over her arms as she turned to him with a sly grin. He knew she'd liked it when he called her 'clever one.'
Hermione moved as close as she could, aligning their lips. He remained steady, eyes boring into hers with more intensity than she'd seen on anyone. Just as their lips nearly brushed she chuckled. "I'd rather have you on the mat in the dojo ready to go over that move we talked about yesterday."
Dimitri scoffed and lightly pushed her shoulder as she laughed.
"You're going to have to wait, УмницаI, I have duties today and a few cases to look over for the Auror administration. But," he leaned forward and wrapped both arms around her torso, "if you like we can have dinner tonight. I have tomorrow morning available for training. You could stay tonight."
Hermione closed her book and turned to Dimitri, standing and throwing a leg over him and situated herself on his lap. His arms remained around her and hers rested on his shoulders, running her hands through dark dark hair.
"More Grindelwald cases, you think?" Hermione asked, lowering kisses onto the smooth skin of his shoulder and up his neck at his moan of encouragement. One thing she found endearing about Dimitri was how vocal he was. Silas hadn't been as vocal, but Silas had been a more attentive lover.
And she'd been in love with Silas. Dimitri was just a passing fancy she would eventually walk away from. Maybe a little sad, but not heart intact.
"Hm, probably. He's been picking up support globally and his movements aren't so easily tracked. Hopefully the Auror's can catch him soon, he's been a nuisance and I'm tired of both his and the Auror's attempts to recruit me. I'd rather remain a freelance curse breaker."
A knot twisted in Hermione's stomach at the thought. They were still over a decade away from the famous Dark Wizard's capture and she hoped Dimitri would remain safe.
Despite having sacrificed her youth to defeat Voldemort, to protect Harry and the rest of the wizarding world, Hermione wanted nothing to do with the Grindelwald conflict. The players for that war were already set, and with World War II ramping up she knew her talents would be needed there.
She'd rather help with the bigger human tragedy.
"Well," Hermione breathed between smoldering kisses, "I suppose if you're not interested in breakfast, and training is off the table, then I can think of a few things that can be done before you head out."
Dimitri's arms held her tighter as he stood, the chair falling back to the floor with a useless clatter. Her legs wrapped around him, stabilizing herself while he laid her down flat on the table's surface. A brief show of wandless magic and she'd cleared the table of debris while Dimitri dropped to his knees and unceremoniously spread her legs apart, his tongue meeting her bundle of nerves with fervor that had Hermione arching her back and crying out.
Her fingers carded through his hair, his hands ran up her sides and back down to her legs. She didn't know when he'd realized she loved the comforting gesture of just being caressed, but after being alone for so long she relished the intimacy.
Dimitri left one hand casually caressing her side and dipped the other between her legs, inserting two fingers into her folds and stroking her insides in a delicious tandem with his tongue and teeth on her clit.
She came with a loud, encouraging moan and he stood, wrenching his pants and undergarments down to bury himself inside her without ceremony. Dimitri wrapped an arm around her arched back and pulled her to him, chest to chest they moved their hips erratically, breathing and moaning together, sneaking a kiss where they could without bumping heads.
"Sasha. УмницаI, fuck you're captivating." Dimitri groaned, one hand tangled in her curls and clutching her head, the other clenching her waist almost painfully. "Come for me again."
He was hitting the perfect spot deliciously, and Hermione came again with a loud moan and a shudder that Dimitri mimicked and she felt him release. Their foreheads met while they caught their breath for a few seconds.
Hermione grinned devilishly and bumped her nose with his. "Don't you have to head to the Auror administration?"
Dimitri groaned in feigned exasperation. "Just let me bask in our passion for a minute, woman."
She laughed as he helped her off the table and yanked up his trousers.
August, 1932
"You must slice the top of the finger with the blade and drop the blood on the chest of the patient."
Hermione did so, letting the blood drop steadily onto the chest of the transfigured cup.
A couple years ago, Hermione had started looking into blood magic and how it can be utilized to magnify healing techniques. Given that blood magic was technically underneath the broader umbrella of Dark Magic, she'd been hesitant to practice it at first. Healing, in her view, was meant to be the epitome of light magic.
The more she read the more intrigued she was, until she decided she wanted to try it. She'd mentioned the interest to Dimitri and he'd told her of a Dark Arts master that resided on the outskirts of Derbent. Since Russia doesn't see the Dark Arts the way they did in England, she was free to find someone to teach her if she chose.
Master Katiya Petrova was in her early sixties, wizard kind aged differently than their muggle counterparts but Master Katiya still looked like she could easily pass for a young twenty-something, with hair a deep burgundy and eyes that made a clear sky look dull, Katiya was easily the most attractive woman Hermione had ever seen.
She was a half-blood witch originally from Kazan, her father an adventurous Irishman who'd been traveling for years, her mother a witch from a rather prominent pureblood family. Hermione didn't know the specifics but from what she'd heard from Dimitri, the relationship between Katiya's parents hadn't lasted long, her father heading back to Ireland, her mother suspiciously dead. Katiya was raised with her maternal family and had gone to Durmstrang.
Master Katiya had tested Hermione's knowledge for weeks, claiming that she was considering making Hermione her first apprentice.
It's been two years, Hermione has learned so much, and according to Katiya she's still considering training her.
Hermione could tell Katiya was in her element as her eyes darkened just before she said; "Now draw the runes."
Hermione did what she was told, drawing three runes using the blood onto the transfigured chest.
The next step was a bit more complex, she looked to Master Katiya and she nodded. Hermione took a steadying breath and placed her hand on the chest and began to chant the words she'd learnt. The ethereal purple and black glow of the magic surrounded the chest, Hermione's heart rate rapidly increasing.
"Keep control." Master Katiya quipped from beside her.
Another steadying breath and a nod. Hermione's heartbeat started to calm but her anxiety remained. The black and purple glow crept down her fingers and slowly spread across the chest like spilt liquid across a counter.
She looked to her Master and she seemed pleased. Katiya touched Hermione's shoulder and gave a small, pleased smile. "If it had been a living person, you would have restarted an un beating heart."
"As long as it had only just stopped beating." Hermione added, lowering her hands from the chest back to her lap.
Master Katiya nodded in affirmation. One couldn't raise the dead without a far stronger ritual, one that required a lot more runic work and human sacrifice. If you want to raise the dead, a life must be given.
She shuddered to think, now that she knew of the ritual in its entirety, that it had been a more unrefined and volatile version of the same ritual that brought Voldemort back to life when she was in her fourth year.
Hermione sat pondering the ritual she had just done. If someone had told her as a teenager that she would be studying the Dark Arts she would have laughed hysterically and turned back to her books and whatever trouble Harry was getting himself into. But that was a simpler time, and a simpler Hermione. That Hermione hadn't lost so many close to her, or lived through so much conflict and strife.
This Hermione would be damned if death stole another one of her precious people before she had anything to say about it.
A stack of books dropped on the table in front of her and Hermione jumped slightly, glancing over the titles. Eyes widening a fraction and jaw slack, she looked up at Master Katiya.
"Read these by the end of the week, I want you to be more than passively knowledgeable in each subject before we get to work on Monday."
"Of course, but Master… elemental magic?"
Katiya raised one perfect eyebrow. "Da. You're wasting your time, and more importantly- mine, learning with me if all you want to know is dark magic as it applies to healing. You've much more potential than that, and I'll not have it squandered. Surely you've felt your affinity to elemental magics, namely air. Your hair electrifies whenever you get frustrated or angry, that's a strong affinity you could be utilizing. One would think you'd like to have every tool at your disposal in your arsenal during these dark times."
Hermione bit her lower lip, apprehensive. She'd never considered having an elemental affinity before, Katiya had a point about her hair. Hermione opened her mouth to argue but got cut off.
"If you want to keep learning and have access to my library you will do as I say."
Hermione promptly shut her mouth and nodded.
Five days later, Hermione sat patiently in Master Katiya's library, listening to the lecture with rapt attention, utterly fascinated. Hogwarts had never mentioned anything about elemental magic. To find out that not only was it a viable magic form, but that there were magicfolk that had masteries and never performed any other type of magic had Hermione nearly vibrating with the need to learn more.
"Power in elemental magic comes from your own affinity and external sources. Someone with a fire affinity wouldn't be capable of utilizing it well if they were surrounded by water, because the external conditions aren't ideal. A water aficionado may be more capable of utilizing their affinity around a fire should they not be suffocating from smoke inhalation. Earth and Air aficionado's have more of an advantage over the other two. Their element is omnipresent, well, unless you're a drowning air user."
"Each element has sub traits, and each user is different. Some with an earth affinity may be able to move earthly objects, others may simply be more inclined towards herbology. Either way it's worth utilizing. Water users may be able to wield water as a weapon, make use of it for it's healing properties, or just enjoy swimming. Fire users could burn down entire cities, light bonfires for rituals, or they could simply prefer living in hotter climates. Air users could love to take flight on a broomstick for the enjoyment of the air rushing through their hair, they could use the light in the air molecules to temporarily trick someone into seeing what isn't truly there, or they could be strong enough to utilize the energy around them and form a strong lightning attack that electrocutes everything it hits."
Katiya's eyes landed on Hermione. "I believe you're strong enough to utilize lightning techniques, I can faintly feel the cackle of electric energy coming from you. I've only ever once felt an affinity so strong in my life."
"Oh? Who else did you know with a strong elemental affinity?" Hermione asked, and the grimace that fell across Katiya's face made her wish she hadn't.
The master looked off into the distance, staring at nothing in particular. "Someone from my school days. He was expelled from the school in our fifth year for practicing dark magic on students and nearly killing them in the process. You know of him. Gellert Grindelwald, his affinity is fire and he wields it masterfully. From the rumor's I've heard he can conjure white fire that disintegrates people when it touches them." Katiya's gaze fell upon her again. "You don't want anything to do with him, Sasha. If you see him coming, or he uses his people to collect you or anyone near you do one thing; run. Run as quickly and as far away as you can."
Hermione was utterly terrified by the foreboding sensation that settled over her.
May, 1935
"You're favoring your right again, УмницаI," Dimitri laughed as he feigned and swung back in with a leg sweep that caused Hermione to hit the mat, "I thought we worked on that?"
Hermione grumbled from the ground as he sauntered over, still grinning cockily and laughing at her. Once he got just close enough she grabbed his ankle and twisted. He caught himself as he went down and rolled backwards and back into a standing position, eyes twinkling with mirth as she stood.
"Very good, if I were an enemy that would've likely dropped me."
"I still need to stop favoring my right so much. It's detrimental." Hermione huffed, striding over to the pitcher of water and the glasses that were left at the edge of the dojo.
Dimitri punched her lightly on the arm. "It is, but don't be so hard on yourself over it. I notice it more because I'm used to training with you. You've come very far in five years, you know. If I were anyone else I certainly wouldn't want to meet you in a wandless fight."
She laughed, grinning. "And in a wand fight?"
"I would run," he said seriously, "I don't think there are many out there who could beat you in a real duel."
Touched and slightly embarrassed, but unwilling to show it, Hermione rose to her tip toes and gave Dimitri a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm disgusting, I'll have a shower at home. Would you like to come over in a few hours? I'm going to make italian for supper."
"Ah!" Dimitri said, his lip twitching upwards at the mention of Italian food. "Da, I'll come. Three hours?"
"Three hours, see you soon."
Hermione appeared directly into her flat and showered. With almost two and a half hours left before Dimitiri arrived, she sat down on her bed and pulled out her beaded bag. The poor thing had really been through it over the years but it still held up. As it should've with all the charms, spells, and wards that she'd laced into it over the years.
She set a tempus charm with an alarm for two hours and then opened the bag and stuck her arm through. Within seconds she was pulled into the bag and standing in the kitchen she'd made for herself.
In her original timeline, Hermione had heard of briefcases and womens bags that held portable homes and offices in them. Like with tents, magic was able to make an externally small space internally massive. Over the years she'd been slowly adding rooms and such to the inside of her beaded bag. The spaces inside and the rooms were quite like walking into other dimensions.
She had one room that was a library the size of the Department of Mysteries, and it was utterly full. She'd been meaning to add more space to it soon, each time she added another book to the growing pile on the large study table she'd built inside, but with Master Katiya's training and Dimitri hanging around so much she hadn't found much time.
There was a series of rooms dedicated to potions. Separated so she can work on more than one potentially volatile brew at a time without fumes interacting negatively with each other. These rooms, along with the library, were her favorite.
Another room was a massive closet, filled with clothing and accessories from different time periods and cultures, now that she'd lived through several decades and assumed she would live through many more.
One room held all of Silas' things.
She didn't enter that room often, and it was the most heavily guarded room in the bag.
Additionally she had her actual living space, kitchen, bedroom, lavatory.
Hermione crossed through a few rooms and headed into her meditation room. After learning about elemental affinities the meditation room had become more of a practice room while she tried to grow her strength. She'd managed a lot with a wand under Master Katiya's tutelage, but she wanted to try doing elemental magic without a wand, utilizing the meditation and energies that Shen Li had taught her.
Her best bet was to try and get the technique down while inside the bag where her access to the natural energies were limited, and therefore more controlled. By her logic, if she can understand the basics of the technique wandlessly where the energetic fields were weak, then she'd have an easier time controlling it when exposed to the stronger energetic fields of the outdoors.
It was just a theory, though. She'd yet to test it.
She set her thoughts aside, sat in the middle of the room, and began to just breathe and banish the thoughts from her head. Focus solely on her internal magic. Feel the core expand with each inhale, constrict with each exhale. The magic worked in tandem with the lungs, it flowed through the limbs and out the fingertips. Something no Hogwarts professor had ever told her and no book in the library had ever mentioned.
Everyone was aware that magicfolk had a magical core, but it wasn't mentioned aside from that. Hermione learned more under Katiya, reading the extensive maps of the magical core and how it flowed through the body, wrapped around the nervous system like a protective coating.
The magical core didn't even come from the heart, like Hogwarts had led her to believe. She couldn't believe she hadn't tried to learn more about it back in her first timeline, but the magical core began in the brain and worked its way along the entire nervous system.
She had a theory as to why that was all left out of the Hogwarts curriculum, though. The science of it clearly proved that magic couldn't be stolen, magicfolk were born with it. It developed at the same time as the nervous system, and thus everything the Death Eaters and Voldemort had fought for was scientifically inaccurate.
Not that it shocked her these kinds of discoveries were left out of the Hogwarts curriculum. Too many board members were from old pureblood families that didn't want to believe that a muggle born could ever have the same level of magical ability, or more in many cases, than they did.
The outrage this research had probably caused made Hermione wish she'd been a fly on the wall for that conversation.
She still couldn't feel elemental affinities like Master Katiya could, but she could feel her own the more she trained with it. She could feel the volatility of the lightning as the energy rolled in her body, roving over her magical core and through her system like subtle electrical current. She theorized that this was how she was able to stay up and study so long, or how she was never tired if she needed to be awake. The electrical current inside her was like having 300 milligrams of caffeine in her system at all times.
But a deeper part of her wondered if this wasn't mostly a byproduct of being struck by lightning in 1999. Not that she'd be able to prove it, and she had the static hair issue when she was angry when she was younger, too, so maybe it wasn't because of being struck.
Hermione moved her hands together carefully, gathering the flux and flow of energy into her fingers and tensed her digits, pushing the magic outward. The cackle of electric energy erupted and she opened her eyes, smiling at the four little lightning bolts that met between her fingers. With careful precision, she began pulling her hands apart, pushing more magic outward in a controlled move, making the bolts over the length of space between her fingers.
With hands shoulder width apart, Hermione pushed her arms out, hands both facing forward instead of facing each other, and the lightning shot out at the wall across from her.
She lowered her hands, smiling at the huge smoking scorch mark on the wall.
"Be honest with me, Sasha."
Hermione looked up at Dimitri. She was laying on his chest, his arm around her pulling her close while he stroked her hair. Her hand was splayed over his toned stomach. They'd been laying in the blissful aftermath for a few minutes but his statement had her weary. She hadn't been honest with anyone but Shen Li in over thirty-five years, afterall.
"I always am." She lied, smiling up at him like she was guileless.
"Do we have a future together?"
Hermione paused. She should have known this was coming, they had been sleeping together for five years. Dimitri had been hinting at wanting more, for the past several months he'd been suggesting she just move her things into his home and stay. She wouldn't, of course, she just cuddled him closer and did what she could to avoid further comment while she could. It felt so damn good to be held again.
Truth be told, she could see herself happy with him. He was funny, with a casual light hearted sense of humor even when he was stressed over his work with the Auror department. He was one of the best looking men she'd ever seen, and fit to boot. Dimitri was tenacious, and driven, as well. And he knew how to please her, not as well as Silas had but well enough.
There were two factors that held her back. She was still grieving Silas. He had been her first love, her only love thus far and no one could ever compare to him. His death had been heartbreaking and she knew that if she were to become involved with another man, and Merlin forbid fall in love with him, he too would die. Hermione didn't know if she could handle the death of another lover.
Another was the fact that she wasn't aging and regardless of anything she would have to leave in the next four or five years. Soon they would begin to notice the lack of change and she would be forced to move on. And the repercussions of telling someone who had so many auror friends weren't something Hermione was willing to chance.
Drawing in her breath Hermione responded. "I thought we agreed this would be nothing more than sex?"
"We did, but that was five years ago." He stated pointedly, keeping all expressions from his face.
Hermione removed herself from his embrace and sat up facing him, cross legged on the bed. She focused her attention on his face, determined to have this conversation respectfully for the man in front of her.
"I realize we never meant to be still sleeping together this far into the future. I am not in the right place for more, Dimitri, I am sorry if you were hoping for that from me."
His entire body froze, an expression of hurt flashed across his face before it became a mask of nothing. He'd erected a wall; once she knew she had also perfected over the years.
"I understand," he said as though he was forcing the words not to sound biting but Hermione could sense a slight animosity in them, "I had thought- but it is of no consequence now. My family, now that I'm almost thirty, wish me to marry. They've entered discussions with a family out of Bulgaria. They have a formidable dowry for their eldest daughter."
Hermione cringed internally at the thought of arranged marriages. Selling women off to men for power and influence was too medieval for Hermione, and it didn't look like Dimitri was too happy with the idea either.
"And you do not wish to go through with an arranged marriage?" She asked, they may have been lovers, but they were friends as well. Hopefully they could remain friends after this.
He shook his head, his hair just long enough to fall into his eyes. "I do not wish to marry at all."
"Have you tried telling your family this?"
Dimitri laughed, sounding sarcastic and hateful and not at all like him, it hurt her heart to hear it come from him. "What I want will not matter to them."
Hermione frowned. "I'm sorry, Dimitri."
To his credit he didn't fidget, didn't get angry. He simply came close to her and kissed her forehead before backing off, pulling on his clothes and heading towards the door. He turned, a sad smile crossed his features and Hermione returned it. "I think it's best we stop."
She nodded once in agreement and he was gone.
Hermione was alone once again.
September, 1937
Hermione was running through the trees of the forest just half a kilometer from Baba Yaba's hut, weaving and casting silencing charms all over herself, with concentration on her breathing and her feet. She had to move before she apparated again or set up wards.
She waved her wand frantically casting spells around herself that would disable tracking charms if anywhere placed on her.
It had happened so quickly that Hermione was glad to have had an escape plan in place for this exact scenario.
Master Katiya, dead. Grindelwald's supporters had swarmed her home like angry wraiths descending.
Katiya's screams for Hermione to run.
"Ah, so the Petrova bitch really did have an apprentice then?" One of them said as Katiya's body slumped to the ground. The house was on fire, but no one seemed to notice as they turned their attention to Hermione.
Hermione slammed a barrier up in front of her and released a few dark hexes into it to prevent the men from getting through them.
"Oh Grindelwald might love this addition. Think she'll scream when we take her?"
"Undoubtedly, look at how petite she is? Pretty little thing."
They seemed to not notice how the barrier crackled and spat as they walked towards it. Hermione wasn't taking any chances here, though. Katiya's warnings from years ago to just run rang in her ears. She took one last look at her Master's body and with a deep scowl at the two men who'd killed her, she sent the barrier outward in an explosion of dark magical energy. Triumphant glee lit her eyes as the dark fire wrapped around the two men and incinerated them, then she apparated away before the dark fire could destroy her too.
Now she was far too dizzy to apparate again and had to hike on foot for a while before she would feel comfortable settling down for the night and apparating again in the morning.
After a few hours of walking, Hermione figured she was far enough away and could set up the tent. She stopped in a small clearing and proceeded to erect strong wards, layering them until she was certain no one short of Grindelwald, Dumbledore, or Voldemort himself could get in and pulled the beaded bag from her hidden pocket.
"Engorgio," she whispered and when the bag had grown back to its original size, Hermione pointed her wand once again and said, "accio tent."
Once again, Hermione found herself an exhausted, sobbing mess laying on a cot in this fucking tent and planning her next move.