AN: This chapter was especially difficult to write, and I'm really not sure why. Apologies in advance for any spelling errors. Between work and school, I'm not sure when the next update will be, but hopefully it won't take as long as this one did. Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews, you guys making writing this story worth it!
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The cottage was exactly what she had expected.
The interior was awash in creams and whites, the most beautifully arranged furniture and a plethora of windows to let in the last of the evening's sunlight. There was a distinctly feminine touch to the place which lent truth to Blaise's mentioning that it was owned by his mother. She must have decorated it as well, and Hermione begrudgingly admitted the witch had taste. The room she had landed in spoke of wealth but with a subtly the she could appreciate. If she ever gave up on Virago, she could see herself living in a place like this. Perhaps with a bit more color.
She left the room she hand portkeyed into - which she assumed was a sitting room - and entered a sun room. The walls were made of large windows and led up into a pyramid skylight. The room appeared to be entirely glass and continued the white theme from the previous room but with splashes of black here and there. Plants bloomed in all four corners, and Hermione thought the room was only a few more potted plants away from being a greenhouse. Large double doors - also made of glass, of course - led out into the garden beyond.
Hermione sat on one of the white sofas and pulled a pillow into her arms, allowing herself a moment to cringe at the horrible black and cream design on it. Perhaps Blaise's mother only had somewhat impeccable taste. A set of wind chimes outside began to clink in the breeze, and she became distinctly aware of how quiet the cottage was.
She was alone in a stranger's cottage in Ireland. She hadn't told anyone where she was or what she was doing, given no warning and certainly not owled Ginny and Luna like she had promised.
"What the fuck is wrong with me," she whispered and buried her face in the pillow. This behavior was so unlike her. She was always the meticulous one, the planner and plotter who made sure all the details were in order before setting out on any kind of adventure. But here she was, neck deep in unknown territory and without a single resource or connection to help her. All for the sake of her best friend and the idiot she was dating. "They're both idiots," she said to herself, "and so am I."
Idiot or not, she needed a plan before the sun fully set and she was left to wonder Ireland in the dark. She had only studied selkies for a short period of time during her years at Hogwarts, mostly for more advanced understanding in the magical uses of selkie skin and why it had been mostly outlawed as a potions ingredient during the development of —
"Focus." She squeezed the pillow a bit tighter and stared out at the garden around her without really seeing it. "Selkie skin used to be harvested off the coasts of Galway until the outlawing of harvesting in seventeen…" She sat up straighter. There had been a small passage in Advanced Potions Making in regards to aquatic environment-based ingredient harvesting. Something about selkies migrating after the harvesting of their skins was outlawed, and a witch who helped develop a town for them, a safe haven similar to other small wizarding towns.
There was no hope of her remembering the name. It had been a small island of little importance at the time, and she had been too focused on the potions information to care about the selkie migrations. She cursed herself for letting information slip through her fingers and considered finding a bookstore in search of a copy of Advanced Potions Making.
It would take too long, she decided, dismissing the idea completely. She was already wasting too much time sitting on the damned couch staring at the plants.
Shoving the pillow aside, Hermione stepped through the glass doors that led out into the garden and tried to find her way to the street. If this was a magical house - which, given the size of the interior in relation to the apparent size of the house, it most definitely was - then it must be within a magical street or town. The Zabinis would never deign to live among muggles.
The cottage appeared to be nestled within a quaint wizarding street. She assumed it was hidden from muggle view because everyone on the street was dressed in the eye-catching robes of modern wizarding fashion.
Hermione frowned. She had been making a lot of assumptions today. That voice in the back of her head, the rational one that hated every step of today's search for her friends, pointed out that none of these behaviors were normal for her. Certainly not traipsing through the Irish countryside alone, and certainly not making an absurd amount of assumptions. There had been very little logic behind her decisions today, only the overwhelming feeling of Harry and Draco being in danger. The intuition sat like a lead ball in her stomach and seemed to whisper, "go, faster, faster, they're in danger, they need you," on a repeating loop in her mind.
When, not if but when, she found them, Hermione told herself she needed to do a lot of soul searching. Maybe she wasn't as recovered from the war as she had thought she was.
Her feet led her down the paved street to what appeared to be a tourist stand sat in front of a grocer. She was ready to applaud her good luck until she took in the appearance of the extremely grouchy woman running the stand. She was frowning so severely that Hermione couldn't tell the difference between the wrinkles from old age and permanent frown lines. Her floppy sun hat was far too big for her and slouched to one side, completely obscuring one of her eyes. The other protruded ever-so-slightly and reminded Hermione, quite horribly, of Dobby the house elf. It was the rudest analogy she had ever made, but it was so entirely accurate that she couldn't stop visualizing it and cringed when she met the woman's gaze.
"Well?" The woman snapped at her and threw her hand about in the air, either to beckon her closer or wave her away. Hermione wasn't sure which. "Are you going to just stand there all day, or are you going to buy something?" Her accent was thick enough that Hermione had a hard time understanding her words, but she still approached the stand and pretended to peruse the merchandise laid out.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said to her. "I didn't mean to appear rude. I just arrived and am still trying to get acclimated."
A brochure was shoved under her nose, and when she pulled back she read the title, Dashing Dublin: A Tourist's Dream.
"You've got out-of-towner written all over your face," the woman said. Her voice wasn't unkind, but it was gruff. Paired with her sour expression, she appeared to be permanently irritated. "If you're here for the festival, you just missed it. Try again next year."
Hermione blinked several times. Whoever had put this woman in charge of welcoming tourists had done themselves a great disservice. "No," she said patiently. "I'm actually here to meet some friends, but I haven't been able to reach them and ask where we're meeting."
The woman muttered something about foolish youth and empty-headed witches, and Hermione tried her best to ignore her. It would do her no favors to snap at her, but the foul attitude was staring to wear on her already limited patience.
"We were supposed to see the selkies," Hermione said. Maybe being blunt was the best tactic. "Do you know the location of the selkie migration this time of year?"
"They don't migrate anymore." The 'you dimwit' was strongly implied. "They'll be at their town on Inishmaan this time of year. Cold and boring, if you ask me."
Hermione picked up a map, set a galleon on the table, and smiled. "Well, I didn't. Have a pleasant day." She turned and left before the woman could hurl more insults her way. The map wasn't worth two sickles, but she didn't feel like fighting over the change. Maybe a tip would help brighten the woman's day.
Spreading the map out as she walked, Hermione considered the best way to apparate. It was risky to hop across the country without knowing where the wizarding towns were, what the weather might be, or if there were muggle bystanders to be wary of. The last of the sunlight was beginning to fade, and apparating to unknown locations in the dark was an added level of anxiety she didn't need. She had hoped for a map with at least the locations of wizarding towns marked on it, but she appeared to have grabbed one titled, Wizard's Annual Pub Crawl. She might just need a pub crawl if she ran into any more characters like that woman, she thought with a grin.
The optimism of finally having information, even if it was mostly guesswork and questionable maps, had put her in a much brighter mood. There was a perk in her step as she continued her walk down the street, her eyes trained to the map, which is why she was knocked flat on her ass by the person she ran into.
Groaning at her jarring impact with the pavement beneath her, Hermione glared up at the person she had run into. Nevermind it being entirely her fault for not looking where she was going.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry!" A wrinkled hand stretched down to help her up, and for a horrible moment Hermione thought it was the woman from the tourist stand. Thankfully, this woman's face was kind, her eyes crowned with crow's feet and laugh lines. "Let me help you up, darling."
Hermione accepted her hand gratefully and was surprised by the strength in the grip that helped her to her feet. Brushing herself off, she picked up her fallen map and smiled at the woman. "Thank you. I'm sorry for running into you like that."
The woman waved away her apology and said, "Never you mind, it happens to the best of us. Especially in new places." She pointed towards the map in Hermione's hand and asked, "Are you here for the pub crawl as well?"
Hermione's brows rose slowly as she considered the idea of this woman, no doubt someone's grandmother, going on a pub crawl.
Laughing at Hermione's expression, she said, "No, I won't be going on it in the same way as most young people do. I own a pub in London and like to tour others every now and then to see what I'm up against." She winked, and Hermione couldn't help but grin. "I've got a reputation to keep, y'know."
"I'm sure you do." Hermione tucked the map into the back pocket of her trousers and said, "I'm actually here to find some friends of mine. They came here looking for the selkies and forgot to tell me where to meet them." The lie was coming a bit too easily for her liking, but the recognition that came over the woman's face gave her a bit too much hope.
"Well, isn't that just…" The woman held out her hand and said, "I'm Maeve. Can't believe I forgot to introduce myself."
Hermione shook her hand and said, "Hermione, pleasure."
Maeve rubbed a hand over her chin in thought, her other hand still holding Hermione's. "Now, I had two gentlemen stop by my pub just the other day asking after young Aoibheann, and she's the biggest helper when it comes to selkies."
"Two men?" Hermione couldn't help but interrupt. "Was one blonde and the other wearing glasses?"
"Why, yes." Maeve smiled at her, a bit of confusion and surprise in her expression. "Yes, they were. Sweet young men were admiring my sign. One of them had these horrid glasses that are just begging to be replaced, they are."
Hermione nodded enthusiastically.
"And the other one…" Maeve trailed off with a low whistle. "Why, that one could launch ships with that face, if you know what I mean."
Hermione's smile slipped from her face, and her jaw dropped open. "Well, I mean," she stuttered out, "he certainly has a… I suppose you could say…"
Maeve laughed and patted Hermione on the shoulder. "No need to be so flustered, dear. There's no shame in admiring a pretty face, even if it's one that'll never look your way."
Frowning, Hermione said, "I'm sorry, look my way?"
"Oh, it was quite obvious." Maeve's smile turned conspiratorial, and she leaned close to whisper, "Those two look at each other the same way my wife and I used to."
Hermione choked. Any defensive remarks she might have said gave way to the most uncomfortable combination of coughing and laughing that left her breathless.
Maeve patted her on the back, not quite noticing Hermione's distress as she went on, "It's always such a wonderful thing to see young people allowed to be whoever they wish to be. The world is changing, I've always said it."
Still unable to breathe, Hermione could do nothing but nod along.
"It's an odd choice to go see the selkies together, but I suppose it's understandable if you've never met one before. My wife and I used to know one back in the day. Lovely creature." Maeve had gotten a faraway look in her eye that made Hermione wonder what direction, exactly, this story might be going.
Not willing to find out, Hermione interrupted her and said, "I heard they would be up at Inishmaan this time of year. Is that where you sent my friends?"
Maeve blinked at her several times as though she had completely forgotten Hermione was standing there. "Oh, yes. They probably went up that way. Not many muggles around that area, so it's easy to apparate or fly. Makes it a short trip, but it's got some lovely sights if you take the time to see them."
Hermione let out a sigh of relief and could feel her shoulders sag under the weight of it. Finally, she finally knew where to go. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "Thank you so, so much."
"Of course, dear." Maeve patted her on the cheek. "Be safe traveling, and tell those lovely boys I said hello."
"I promise I will," Hermione said. They bid each other goodbye, and Hermione grinned at the thought of telling Harry and Draco who she had run into. She wondered if they knew the impression they had given Maeve during their visit to her pub. Knowing them, Harry was probably entirely oblivious while Draco would be appalled to find out. Eager to give them that bit of news, Hermione pulled out her map once more and found the location of Inishmaan. It wasn't too far off and was apparently home to a lovely little place called Synge's Rest. Very high reviews and a frequent stop for the pub crawl.
Hermione was about to try apparating to Synge's Rest, or somewhere close to it, when she was knocked into for the second time that day. Gravity, it seemed, was on her side this time as the person who ran into her was sent sprawling. Shoving the map back into her trouser pocket and swearing she wouldn't pull it back out again, Hermione looked down at the girl now lying on the pavement.
Bright gold eyes stared up at her, and Hermione was momentarily stunned.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry." The little girl sprang to her feet and dusted off her dress. "I was in such a hurry, I didn't look where I was going."
"That's alright." Hermione's eyes were still so transfixed by the color of the girl's eyes that she nearly missed the white blonde hair framing her face. It was nearly the same shade as Draco's, so similar that Hermione looked back to the girl's face to see if there were any other similarities in her features. "Are you hurt?"
The girl shook her head, her hair falling all in her face. "Nope, not a bit. I've fallen too many times for that to hurt." She pushed her hair out of her face and grinned up at Hermione. The smile slowly fell from her face as she stared at her. When she spoke, her voice was so soft Hermione almost couldn't hear her. "You've got selkie eyes."
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione stared down at her, her mouth hanging open. This day was so full of odd encounters, she wasn't sure she had the energy for this one as well.
"Selkie eyes," the girl said as though that explained everything. "Y'know." She waved her hands over her own eyes and mumbled something under her breath.
Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure I —" she pushed the palm of her hand against forehead "— I don't understand what that means, but I'll take it as a compliment. I'm sorry I knocked you over, but I'm in a bit of a hurry, so you'll have to excuse me." She tried to walk past the girl, but was stopped by a small hand grabbing hers.
"Wait!" The girl pulled Hermione closer to her, forcing Hermione to kneel beside her. She had a surprising amount of strength for a child, and she held onto Hermione's hand tightly enough to keep her from standing back up. "It really was a compliment, saying you have selkie eyes." She looked up at Hermione earnestly. "I'm Evie, and I think selkie eyes are the prettiest thing I've ever seen."
Hermione couldn't help the blush that heated her face. "Thank you, Evie. I'm Hermione. It was very nice to meet you."
"You too," Evie said with a wide smile. "I have to go help my new friends before my brother beats them up, but I'd really like to stay and talk." She looked down the street a bit forlornly. "I don't have very much time though."
"That's alright," Hermione said. She tried not to dwell on the brother beating someone up bit and chalked it up to the odd things children say. "We don't want to keep your friends waiting. I'm actually looking for some friends of mine, so I need to go as well."
Evie looked at her with a calculating stare that didn't belong to a child, and Hermione felt goosebumps break out along her arms. "Can I have their names?"
Frowning at the odd way she asked, Hermione said, "No, but I can tell you their names are Harry and Draco."
The grin that spread across Evie's face was so full of mischief that Hermione knew she had made the right choice with her words. "You are very clever, Miss Hermione. I like that." Evie finally let Hermione stand back up and said, "If you stand in this exact spot and watch the moon rise, your friends will find you."
Hermione stared at her for several moments before slowly nodding her head.
"I promise." Evie held her hand over her heart and solemnly said, "If you do as I say, they will find you here." She winked and took off down the street, her blonde hair streaming behind her. She disappeared down a side alley, and Hermione was left alone on the street once more.
Looking about, Hermione realized she was now one of the only people still out on the street. The sun had set, the stars were beginning to come out, and the rest of the town was beginning to close down for the night. Turning back towards the alley Evie had disappeared down, Hermione was not surprised to see the moon beginning to peek through the clouds just above. The sky darkened with every second she stood in indecision.
Logically, she should be leaving. She should be apparating to Inishmaan where she had a solid lead and solid information, and she should be finding her friends. She should be forgetting about kind old ladies and strange children. But the way Evie had looked at her, the way her golden eyes had seemed to age a thousand years and take on such wisdom when she told Hermione to stand there. The goosebumps hadn't faded from her arms. A bright light, the same color as Evie's eyes, lit up the alley Evie had run down and then faded just as quickly. Mind made up, Hermione headed for the alley.
Turning the corner, her wand already lit with light enough to see, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.
Standing inside the alley was Harry and Draco.