DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!
Chapter Four – A Whole New World
At promptly 4pm the 6th year Herbology Class reappeared in clusters, on the lawn in front of Greenhouse 3. Well, most of the 6th year Herbology class reappeared.
"WHERE IS GRANGER AND ZABINI?" shrieked Professor Sprout, clearly frazzled by the fact that 2 of her students had failed to return at the aforementioned time. In fact, she had expected them back before the due time, them being the brightest two. It was just assumed that they would do what they had to without any fuss, and be back without delay. It was hardly a difficult process.
Now, they were clearly missing. And she knew who was clearly at fault.
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Hermione did not open her eyes when she awoke. The sun pouring in through her window had made her bed deliciously warm, and she was far too comfortable to rise just yet. With a contented smile playing on her lips, she turned over, quite prepared to go back to sleep. It was not to be however. There was a frustrated someone standing over her bed, trying to get her to wake.
"Milady, up, outta bed with you. Lazy girl. Tis already past sun up" said the woman, fusing around the room, opening draws and doors.
Hermione opened her eyes slowly. Who on earth was fussing around her room. She was quite within her rights to sleep in on a Saturday, especially after the Herbology fiasco the day before. Herbology. Oh Merlin thought Hermione, sitting bolt upright and almost scaring the living daylights out of the small woman at the foot of her bed, thick plaits wrapped around her head. This was defiantly not her room, though she couldn't be sure if she was in Hogwarts or not. The room seemed to be the same stone walls and floors though one look out the large window at the foot of her bed told her this defiantly wasn't Hogwarts. A long slopping green hill led to a great expanse of ocean beyond which was the horizon.
Her head dropped into her hands and she tried desperately to figure out what was going on. The portkey. Something hadn't been right. Suddenly, another bolt of horror tore through her and she scanned the room, trying to find the intricately caved jewelry box that was the portkey. Her hammering heart eased slightly when she saw it sitting harmlessly on the dressing table across the room.
"My goodness girl, what's gotten into you this day? You look like you've seen a ghost. Perhaps you've fallen ill? Now up with you. We're to go riding this morn, Hurry up, up with you girl" said the old maid throwing a lovely long gown over a screen, behind which Hermione assumed she was to change.
Hermione sighed, peeling back the warm covers and climbing from the lovely bed. Chills ran through her as her feet touched the freezing stone floor and she all but ran to the screen to change. She wasn't sure what was going on here, but perhaps for the time being it was best to go along with it.
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Draco Malfoy looked sullen as he sat in front of Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Sprout.
"Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid we're currently missing two students, and Professor Sprout has asked us to investigate you first. It seems that you were responsible for spelling the portkeys used today" said Professor Dumbledore kindly. A curt nod was the only answer he received from the boy in front of him. Dumbledore gave a small sigh of exasperation.
"Perhaps you could tell us what went wrong so we can begin finding ways to bring Miss Granger and Mr. Zabini back as soon as possible" At this, Malfoy looked up with a sneer.
"I would very much like you to find Blaise, but I don't care what happens to the mudblood" spat Malfoy.
"Do not use such language around me Draco. Just tell us what happened. It is the very least you could do" Dumbledore was practically pleading, and Draco looked up, not at the headmaster, but to his mentor that stood behind the powerful wizard. Snape gave a curt nod, clearly not impressed with the young boy. Draco gave a large, overly dramatic sigh.
"Fine, I used a variation spell on one of the portkeys. Just for a bit of fun you know. I had no idea this is what happened. I thought they'd just end up on the other side of the castle." Draco seemed non pulsed by the extent of the problem. The teachers shared a look amongst them, while Draco studied the nails on his left hand. It was Snape who spoke next.
"Draco, what was the variation you used?" his voice deathly low and icy and Draco shuddered involuntarily.
"'porteous' instead of 'porteus'. Drawled Draco, which earned him another disapproving glare from Snape.
"And the hand action?" demanded McGonagall. Draco sighed again, raising his eyebrow.
"I don't see how this is important, but it was a downward flick and a quick circle" The teachers were sharing another look at the information they had just been given.
"Oh, it can't be that bad" said Draco loudly; looking at each of the adults, not appreciating being left out of the loop. but Dumbledore shook his head slowly.
"I'm afraid it's very serious Mr. Malfoy. You may leave now. Professor Snape will work out your punishment at a later date" and with that he waved Draco from his office.
This was not good. Not at all. Finding two students anywhere on the earth would have been easy if they had been lost in the present time. Finding them in a different century however, now that was a whole different story.
Dumbledore sighed softly, resting his head in his hands. For the first time in his memory, he would be able to do nothing to help. It was up to Blaise and Hermione now.
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Hermione's head was spinning as she rode along the beach, her maid Bragnae riding beside her. The morning had brought with it a wealth of information that had only further confused the poor girl. Princess Hermia, she recited in her head, over and over, and the wind whipped a few strands of her long honey colored hair across her face. Her identity and her independence had been snatched away from her this morning, with a few well placed sentences. She was royalty. Princess Hermia of Ireland to be exact, and up until that morning, she had been betrothed, to an oaf of a man, according to Bragnae. But, to add to the crazy circumstances, her father informed her that he had been killed in battle.
Hermione had heard Bragnae's sigh of relief when the news was delivered, and Hermione decided that she quite liked this woman. She obviously cared very much for Hermione, or Hermia's, happiness. Now the two of them were riding in silence along the wet sand, and Hermione was grateful for the time to think. The situation was a most incontinent one. For starters, her traveling partner was missing, and while she was reserving judgment on Blaise, she would have very much liked to have him here right now, to help her figure out what was going on. Secondly, the portkey didn't work, and she seemed to be missing her wand. And lastly, she wasn't even in the 21st century anymore.
Each thought that occurred to her made her heart beat even faster with fear. Being stuck somewhere in the Dark ages, without Blaise and without anything familiar was right at the bottom of her to-do list.
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"They're what?" cried a shaken Professor McGonagall. Her best student was missing and Dumbledore had no way to help. This was madness in its purest form.
"My dear Minerva, please, it's not nearly as bad as it seems. The spell is indeed a transportation spell, and a very… complex one at that. They have been transported to a time in history which has allowed them to; take on the roles of two destined souls. They simply have to discover their true feelings in order to reactive the portkey and return them home" Dumbledore said all of this, as though Blaise and Hermione had simply gone on Holidays. McGonagall on the other hand looked faint.
Snape came out from behind the chair McGonagall was sitting on, fanning herself, and strode towards where Dumbledore stood near his pensive.
"What if they don't discover any feelings?" asked Snape, his voice low. Dumbledore looked up with eyes twinkling.
"Oh, they'll find them alright Severes. The transporting spell works only if the two harbor some kind of attraction for one another. Give them time. Have faith" said Dumbledore warmly. Snape however seemed unable to do both, and he swept from the office and towards his own in order to find some way to bring them back. He would not sit around, while his godson was lost.