(Disclaimer: See Beginning)
Thanks for all the reviews and such! And of course, thanks to my betas, Gryffindork11 and McGonagall's Bola for their help.
Enjoy the chapter
(This is an added note: sorry for the repost, but I'm going to be crazy busy this week so I won't be able to post the next chapter until next Friday-Sorry! :/)
Recap:
"Who are you?" someone asked from behind Hermione, startling the young witch.
Snatching up her wand, Hermione turned sharply at the sound of the intruder only to drop it in shock. The Gryffindor's eyes widened, as she took in the blonde woman standing behind her. Hermione stuttered over her words as she asked, completely dumbfounded, "Fera?"
Chapter 9
"Fera?" Hermione asked, stumbling to her feet clumsily, her bag sliding from her shoulder and to the floor in the process.
She stood, frozen, her eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief. This mystery woman standing before her was the spitting image of Fera Rosier. Her long blonde hair that trailed down her back, her clear blue eyes, pointed nose and rose-colored lips, the small beauty mark just below her left eye─ it was as if Fera had stepped straight out of Hermione's dreams.
But that couldn't be possible. The Gryffindor had seen Colten killing her in that dark ritual with her own eyes. Fera Rosier was dead…wasn't she?
"I have changed my mind," Fera stated, re-catching Hermione's attention. "You may keep your name. It has occurred to me that becoming acquainted with a figment of my own imagination is particularly insalubrious."
"But I'm not─" Hermione tried to protest.
Fera continued, murmuring to herself, "my mental faculties must be deteriorating at an even faster rate if I cannot discern reality from fantasy any longer…damn this prison." The blonde witch turned on her heel, quickly exiting the dark room.
Hermione stared at the now empty doorway, completely baffled. What on Earth just happened here?
This Fera seemed a lot less…put together, mentally speaking, than Dream Fera had been. Did this place somehow change her? That is, if this Fera was, indeed, the real Fera. Or was This Fera nothing more than an illusion, a twisted ghost of who she used to be?
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Hermione muttered. Putting her wand back in her pocket, and picking up her fallen bag to sling it around her shoulders, she left the room.
Bright light immediately assaulted her eyes the second she step through the doorway. Blinking her eyes so they could adjust, she found herself back in the hallways of Hogwarts, or at least a weak imitation of Hogwarts.
While the architecture and décor was the same, mimicking the original castle's ornate windows, it's thick stonewalls and framed portraits, everything was still…off.
Shapes were sharper, and the colors surrounding her were too dramatic. The reds were too red, and the blues too blue. The sky was a bizarre shade of teal, with not a cloud or sun around. It was just an even coat of flat teal, nothing more. Even the trees outside were oddly formed, their branches twisting towards the sky in tight spirals.
"It's so…" Hermione bit her lip, trying to find the right word, "fake. Why is everything here so crazy?"
The sound of doors banging shut jolted her from her thoughts and brought her back to her original mission: to find the illusion/real Fera.
Hermione ran down the corridors in what she hoped was the right direction. She waved as she passed by the portraits, whose inhabitants were clamoring to see who the new arrival was, their excited whispers echoing in the long hall.
Her short journey brought her to the large double doors of the Hogwarts library and the Gryffindor couldn't stop the large smile that was beginning to spread across her face. The doors creaked open as the small witch pushed against the heavy oak.
The room was surprisingly quiet and fairly dim, with only a few candles lit along the walls. The set-up was much like the Hogwarts' library that had ensnared the Hermione's affection her first year. She could almost picture Madame Pince sitting behind her desk, her lips pursed in displeasure as she admonished a student for dropping one of her books.
With a sentimental smile, Hermione progressed further into the room.
"Fera, are you in here?" she called out, her voice echoing in the silent room. A noise from the restricted section caught her attention, so she quickly followed it, pushing open the iron gates that separated the darker part of the library from the rest of the room. Passing through the aisles of books, she found herself in front of yet another door that was slightly ajar. It opened easily as Hermione slipped inside, a gasp falling from her lips.
"Amazing," Hermione whispered.
It was a library straight from her dreams. The room was one big circle with a high ceiling. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with built-in shelves for the thousands of books that lay neatly upon them. The only section of wall that wasn't covered with bookshelves, held a marble fireplace that was currently lit. Two wingback chairs were sitting in front of the fire, their green leather glowing from the soft flames.
In the very center of the room, a large pole was erected, and a long wooden table was wrapped around its base like a skirt. Papers, books, quills and drawings were haphazardly strewn about its surface. To the very left of the table, a black chalkboard was standing. On it, half of an arithmancy equation was written out.
Fera was nowhere to be found.
This must be Fera's study. Hermione walked over to the chalkboard, eyebrows rising as she tried to understand the complex equation that was written out. Her mind was already buzzing as it tried to follow the complicated knot of numbers. If she needed any further proof that Fera was indeed as brilliant as Professor Dumbledore claimed, it could be found right here on this chalkboard.
Shaking her head and promising herself that she would come back later to have another crack at the equation, Hermione moved on to the disorganized pile of papers on the table next to her. On the very top of the pile, a battered old journal sat, its cover worn and crinkled from extended use.
With a quick check around the room to make sure she was still alone, Hermione gingerly picked up the book and flipped it open to the first page. In neat script, the words 'Project Reservoir' sat innocently on the top of the page. Below it was the date, March 28, 1779, and Fera's name in ornate letters.
Hermione turned a page, quickly skimming it.
March 28, 1799
I have spoken with both Headmaster Tremble and Master Stolkins and they believe that my research idea has merit. Headmaster Tremble, especially, is quite enthusiastic for my success and has, in a very charitable spirit, offered to sponsor my research, which brings me much relief. While I am sure the ministry would have graciously covered my expenses, I find that I prefer to work in the solitude of a more private setting and on a schedule that is more suitable to my temperament. The proper atmosphere makes all the difference, you know.
The department of Magical Law Enforcement is of course very supportive of my endeavor and for that I am glad. If all goes according to plan, my Reservoir Stone should drastically reduce the number of Auror casualties while in the field.
I have decided to start my research by measuring the magical energy signatures and levels of magical cores within witches and wizards. I am hoping that by beginning at this point, I will be able to eventually analyze and manipulate the 'magical recharge' and output within all magical beings, so they can then 'share' it with others in times of distress.
First, I will have to create a potion that will allow me to see the magical energy within each individual. Perhaps I can utilize my skills in Occlumency….
"Sharing magic?" Hermione mouthed in awe, skipping a few entries to see where Fera's research would take her.
August 6, 1799
I have made a marvelous discovery! On a lark, I decided to measure the energy levels within Muggles as a comparison to other magical creatures. I had assumed that the energy that I would see within Muggles would drastically differ from that of magical beings, but it is the same!
I have measured the signatures of several individuals to affirm my suspicions and the results lead to only one conclusion; Muggle and Magical Folk share the same form of energy, meaning of course, Muggles have magical energy within them too!
The only difference that I can discern, as of yet, is that they do not produce enough magical energy for them to use. Just as in the magical, the amount of magical energy within a Muggle can vary. I've even found that in some, there is an abundance of magical energy stored within the body, however, for whatever reason, it lies dormant. These same individuals also seem to lack a magical core that would help replenish any magic they depleted. Should they ever be able to reach their magical reserves, I imagine it would drain their magical energy AND their life source quickly after. So, it is possible this is the reason they are blocked from their magic.
A new thought has just occurred to me. The abundance of magic within these individuals could explain the appearance of Muggle-born children…I will have to look further into this hypothesis in the near future.
I wonder how much magical energy my dear Edmund has….
"Oh my God," Hermione breathed, gripping the journal in her excitement. Muggles contained magical energy. It explained so much! "This woman is brilliant!" she gushed, eagerly jumping between entries at random.
October 23, 1800
The transfiguration spell Nicolas suggested was a success. I have successfully crafted my Reservoir stone! It must have time to harden appropriately for the next week, but I eagerly await its finish! For the time being I have placed it in my plant room to rest.
November 3, 1800
The stone is more potent than I thought it would be. When I returned to my greenhouse for its retrieval, I discovered all my plants dead. They were nothing more than shriveled, blackened stems and dust. I can only assume that their sudden deaths were the result of the Reservoir stone absorbing all of their energy.
As a consequence, I have applied the necessary charms that should prevent it from erratically absorbing any nearby energy source and as an added precaution I have also encased within a metal box for safekeeping. I am hoping that with these preventative measures in place, the stone will behave appropriately.
An ominous feeling filled Hermione as she read on.
January 16, 1801
I am deeply troubled. I have tried numerous times to reach a satisfactory result and still the answer to my problem alludes me. I have found that once activated the stone, no matter which containment spells I use, will not cease its objective. They simply continue to absorb the energy of the subject they are keyed to until there is none left to take, even going so far as to absorb their life force as well.
I have been using Ramora fish, which are known for their vast magical reserves and potency, but even they are no match for the stones. While I am able to release the energy stored in the stone into the 'receiver' fish with relatively no problems, regrettably, the 'giver' fish is never as fortunate.
By last account, it took 1 minute and 36 seconds for the Reservoir stone to drain and kill the last specimen. I dare not try the stone on more sentient beings or Merlin forbid, a human. I do not believe they would fare any better.
Absorption, once begun, cannot be stopped.
April 18, 1801
Nicolas has warned me that I may not be able to adjust my Reservoir Stone any further. He informed me that the magic within alchemy created stones has a tendency of becoming 'living magic' which much like enchanted items, can take on a will of its own.
If this is the truth, then I fear for my research. The potential for disaster…is astronomical.
July 21, 1801
Ben's last letter has deeply troubled me. He wrote to warn me that my father has somehow discovered the nature of my research.
I am distraught.
I do not pretend to be ignorant of my father's sinister character, especially when directed at Muggles and Muggle-borns. He is monstrous. I can only imagine what he would do if he were to ever acquire my Reservoir Stone.
Though my own conscience forbears me from using human subjects I do not believe that his would present itself as much of an obstacle, steeped as it is in villainous intent.
There is only one path now…
Hermione closed the journal solemnly, her mind racing. Fera's big project, the secretive research that Professor Dumbledore had hinted at, was about an alchemy stone that stole magic. It was both terrifying and brilliant all at once.
"No wonder she destroyed her research," Hermione mused, slumping into the nearest chair and rubbing her aching temples. If Colten Rosier had gotten a hold of the Reservoir Stone, he would have most likely sucked every Muggle and Muggle-born child dry without even blinking an eye. He would, in turn, have an endless supply of power.
What could a man like Colten Rosier do with that much power? The thought made the Gryffindor shiver.
"Thank God he's dead," she sighed, then stilled when a new thought suddenly popped in her head. Rosier's dead, but Voldemort isn't.
Hermione paled as her mind tried to wrap around the concept of a world in which Voldemort had access to unlimited power. It was just as Fera had written; the potential chaos that one little stone could create, especially in the hands of a sick madman like Voldemort, would be absolutely apocalyptic.
"Why on Earth would Professor Dumbledore suggest I find out more about this stone? What good could possibly come from the Order using something like it? We'd be no better than the Death Eaters," Hermione muttered, wringing her hands in panic.
No, Dumbledore wouldn't want that. Perhaps, he just wants us to create a stone like it…or maybe fix the stone's original formula, so it's no longer lethal…Merlin! Harry would have no trouble defeating Voldemort then. Although, if Fera couldn't do it, then how could we manage it?
Folding her arms on the desk, Hermione laid her head down upon them, groaning audibly at such an impossible task.
"Are you still here?" Fera challenged sharply, appearing suddenly beside the Gryffindor witch. Hermione jumped out of her seat, one hand gripping her wand and the other gripping her racing heart.
"Of course I'm still here!" Hermione exclaimed. "And will you please not sneak up on me like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
The older witch cocked one eyebrow as she looked over her uninvited guest, and her calm façade rapidly bled into a look of utter disgust.
"I have taken my potion. I should no longer be plagued by hallucinations!" Fera snapped, stomping her foot childishly. Magic swirled around the blonde dangerously, sending her hair and robes flying in the conjured wind. Her blue eyes blazed with power and anger.
Oh Merlin! Hermione thought, panic replacing her irritation, as she cautiously inched her way towards the door. "I'm not a hallucination! I'm a witch," she insisted.
The magical outburst abruptly stopped. "Are you now?" Fera asked, intrigued again. Her long fingers poked at Hermione's face and chest. "Hmm, you are rather solid. Tell me then, child, if you are not a product of dementia then where did you come from?" The witch's eyes darkened as a thought crossed her mind. "Or are you a trap, created by my father to falsely secure my trust?"
The soft fire behind them roared, spiking into the air to match the other witch's temper. Fera brought a pale wand up, pressing it against Hermione's throat in a threatening manner. "I warn you," she bit out behind gritted teeth, "I am not a being to be trifled with."
"I─I'm not a tra─trap," Hermione stuttered looking down at the thin piece of wood against her skin nervously. "Look, I can explain everything─it just might not make any sense. It doesn't make much sense to me at least."
Fera narrowed her eyes, thinking over what the girl said. Seconds stretched into minutes, until finally the wand was dropped from Hermione's throat, to which the curly-haired witch gave a grateful sigh.
"Very well," Fera agreed, stepping back before pointing at the chairs by the fireplace. "You may sit and attempt an explanation." With a swish of her blue robes, the older witch gracefully sat in one of the chairs, her back arched regally as she waited.
"You may begin," she stated imperiously.
Hermione promptly sunk into the green leather of the seat, fiddling with her shirt as she tried to order her thoughts. "Right," she sighed. "You see, I wasn't created, well, except by my parents, but I wasn't created in a lab or anything, and certainly not by a dark wizard." Hermione stopped, realizing that she was rambling and started again, "I'm a student at Hogwarts, a Gryffindor actually, and I believe that I was sent here."
"Indeed?" Fera asked, skeptically. "And by whom were you sent?"
"Well, that's just the thing," Hermione said, worrying her lip. "I think I was actually sent by you, or at least someone using your voice. When I touched the book today, I thought you were dead, so I wasn't entirely sure who was talking to me."
One blonde eyebrow arched in question. "Book? To which book are you referring?"
Hermione blinked. "The book that your father used in that ritual. You know, the one that trapped you here."
Fera straightened in her chair. "And how do you know about that ritual?" she questioned, suspicious once more.
"Well, actually, it's the same way that I learned about you. I saw it in a dream," Hermione said, leaning forward in her chair, her words rushing out of her. "I've been having a lot of dreams about you lately, all about you and some research that you were trying to keep from your father. They never go farther than the ritual though. And then, the other night, I was lead to a weird room that had the same book, except it was covered in chains, and I think I heard your voice. I must have cut myself on it or something, then I passed out, and when I woke up, the book was no longer chained and I had this on my hand."
Finished with her long speech, Hermione took in a much-needed breath of air to steady herself, while sticking out her left hand to show the other witch her tattoo. Slim fingers wrapped around Hermione's hand, pulling and twisting at it so the words could be properly read.
With a bark of laughter, Fera dropped Hermione's hand as she bounced from her chair. Hermione leaned back in surprise. She looked at the other witch with apprehension, not sure if she could trust this new jovial mood just yet. She had no idea what this place was doing to Fera, but her mood swings were beginning to really scare her.
The other witch was now pacing around the private room, chuckling to herself while gesticulating wildly with every turn and muttering under her breath.
"Um," Hermione mumbled, startling Fera who must have forgotten that she wasn't alone. "I take it, by your reaction, that you understand what this tattoo is all about."
"Of course I do! It is quite simple really. My father is a contemptible bastard!" Fera remarked with a smile, her eyes shining with glee.
Hermione cautiously smiled. "Yes, he was," she agreed quickly, "but what does that have to do with these words?"
"Pardon?" Fera asked, as she stopped pacing. "Oh, yes, your 'tattoo', as you called it. It is actually a curse, or rather the cure to a curse…or perhaps it is a key…or a puzzle piece? No, no. Definitely a key." The blonde trailed off, staring at the blazing fire thoughtfully.
The younger witch looked down at her marked hand, a frown pulling at her mouth. "So this is the result of a curse?" Fera hummed in approval. "Okay then, what curse are we talking about?"
Fera, serious once more, scolded Hermione. "What curse?" she asked incredulously, spreading her arms out wide. "Open your eyes, child. THIS is the curse. This world, in which there is no escape."
"Your father cursed you by trapping you in a warped version of Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.
Fera waved her question away, "No, I assume Headmaster Tremble was responsible for that."
"Wait, Headmaster Tremble is the one who stuck you in this book?" Now Hermione was getting confused.
"What are you talking about?" Fera snapped. "Have you not been listening to me? My father is responsible for trapping me here."
"I have been listening, but you're not making it very clear," Hermione spat back. She took a calming breath, reordering her thoughts. "Alright. Your father trapped you in this world, but it was Headmaster Tremble who made it resemble Hogwarts? Is that right?"
Fera gave her a pleased smile. "Exactly."
Relieved, Hermione nodded, "Okay. How?"
Leaning over the back of her abandoned chair, Fera thought over her answer. "I cannot tell you exactly what happened after my father imprisoned me, as I was not there, but I can share my own thoughts on the matter."
"That can work," Hermione encouraged her.
"Very well," Fera said, reclaiming her seat. "This world as you see it was not the original prison my father constructed when he bound me to this Soul Book."
"Soul Book? I've never heard of that before," Hermione told the other witch.
"Yes, any reputable witch or wizard would have never heard of it either. It is quite illegal and born from very, VERY, dark magic. This world you see around you is just an extension of that black magic."
"Wow, so Soul Books act like prisons?" Hermione asked.
Fera chuckled in amusement. "Nothing so simple, child, I assure you. If my father wished to merely imprison me, he could have locked me away in our manor's dungeons. No, this magic is much more complex than that." The blonde tittered as she toyed with a piece of hair.
"You may look at it this way: this world, is more than just a prison, its a separate dimension, a pocket of space and reality that exists outside of your world and is supported entirely by dark soul magic─my soul to be exact."
Hermione gulped. "Your soul?"
"Hmm? Oh yes, well, not entirely my soul. You see, the more souls you bind to a book, the stronger the prison becomes. My father must have sacrificed quite a few people to make this prison…its very hearty, you know."
Hermione looked around the room apprehensively. "So, there are trapped souls wandering around in here with us?"
Fera snickered. "Not in here, no. Out there." She pointed at the window, towards the Forbidden Forest. "I have set wards that keep them out, as they can be quite irritating. Though, I would not even consider them to be souls any longer, at least, not in the traditional sense. After succumbing to the dark magic, they are little more than nasty shadows, echoes of the people they once were, whose bodies, minds, and souls were torn apart and absorbed into the book."
"So why aren't you…you know?" Hermione asked, waving at the woman's very physical body.
"Had Professor Tremble not stolen the book away, and expanded this world as you see it, such would have been my fate. You see, I was originally trapped in the small room you arrived in, surrounded by the cursed souls, who were waiting to pull me into their cursed, half-existence. It took all of my mental and magical power to keep them at bay. By the time the Headmaster rescued me from my father's clutches, they had nearly succeeded in destroying my body and capturing my soul. Fortunately, he was able to set me free from the room at least. "
"How do you know Headmaster Tremble is responsible for all this?" Hermione asked.
"Who else would do this? Certainly not my father. That would be counter-productive. There is no one else within my acquaintance who knew of my situation and had the power to thwart my father and assist me in such a way."
"And this tattoo?" Hermione pressed.
"My father was always exceedingly paranoid. I imagine he put a curse on the book, to seal it the minute it was stolen from him, so I could not be freed. He was also a very malicious man who enjoyed taunting his enemies. 'Blood of the lover', as your markings say, could only refer to my Muggle lover, Edmund. His blood was most likely used to activate the curse.
"He knew Edmund would never be able to come to my aid. Not only was he kept ignorant of the magical world, but as a Muggle, he would not understand how to free me…my father probably had himself a good laugh about it," Fera finished in a sad whisper.
"That's horrible," Hermione whispered.
Fera gave a hollow laugh. "Yes, well, my father always did think himself witty. It no longer matters anyway. What is done is done, and the seal is no longer in tact, thanks to you and your blood," Fera added happily. "You must be a descendent of my dear Edmund." Fera smiled fondly at her before straightening. "That reminds me. May I see your hand?"
"Um, okay?" Hermione held out her left hand for the other woman.
In a sudden flash of movement, Fera snatched Hermione's hand. The blonde witch pulled out a knife from her robes and with a twisted smile, said, "Hold still."
Hermione frantically tugged at her hand, trying to loosen the witch's firm grip. "Are you out of your mind! Let go─AH!" She squealed as the tip of her middle finger was pricked.
Fera squeezed the wounded digit until a single drop appeared, which she scooped up with her knife.
Once she had secured her prize, Fera ran out of the room, her blue robes billowing in her wake. Without a second thought, Hermione jumped up to follow her, sucking on her cut as she went.
Fera led the young Gryffindor back to the room where she had originally entered the Soul Book. The older witch strode up to a long glass mirror with her knife and the blood and pressed it against the surface.
Whatever Fera had done, caused a magical ripple to roll across the glass. The woman stepped back with a beaming smile. She turned to see Hermione coming up behind her and waved her over. "Come here girl."
"Well since you asked me so nicely," Hermione muttered sarcastically as she made her way to the other witch's side. She looked over the mirror curiously. Is this the way home?
Her hand was once again snatched up and Fera was roughly squeezing at her finger to draw out more blood. Trying to regain control of her limbs, Hermione attempted to push the mentally unstable witch off, only for her hand to be slapped away.
"Shh!" Fera reprimanded her as if she were an errant child in need of discipline. With a hard tug on the young witch's wrist, Fera thrust her hand towards the glass surface. Again the glass rippled, as a buzz of energy traveled up Hermione's arm, shocking her. The tips of her fingers started to disappear into the mirror, causing the shocks to intensify until they became painful.
"Ow! It shocked me!" Hermione shouted, yanking her hand back to safety.
Beside her, Fera was humming happily. "'Blood of the lover', indeed."
Shaking out the tingles from her hand, Hermione scowled at the older witch. "You could have warned me," she admonished her.
"What was there to warn? I did not know what would happen. I simply was acting on a new hypothesis."
Hermione cut her eyes at Fera with an irritated frown. "A guess, you mean."
Fera shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "An educated guess. In any case, your blood is the key to leaving. I believe you would be able to leave now, if you wish…"
"Well, that's good to know," Hermione said, rubbing her hand absentmindedly.
"Although, the electric charge you would have to endure to get through the portal could just as easily kill you…" Fera added brightly.
Hermione thought over this new information. She knew there was at least some truth to the possibility that trying to leave would kill her. Her sore arm could attest to that.
There was also the matter of the Reservoir Stone research that she had to figure out for Dumbledore, so she had to stick around long enough for that anyway or, at least, until the end of break. Still, she didn't cherish the thought of being stuck here. Maybe there was a compromise they could reach. She could supply her blood and in return Fera could allow her to use her research.
"I'll stay," Hermione decided.
"Pardon?" Fera inquired, cocking one eyebrow.
"I'll stay," the Gryffindor repeated, "You know, to help you leave too. I'll do whatever I can to help, whether it's through research or just to supply blood samples."
Fera said nothing as she stared thoughtfully at the bushy-haired witch in front of her. After a long pause, she asked, "What would you like in return?"
"I want permission to continue your research on the Reservoir Stone," Hermione requested meekly. When Fera's eyes began to darken in anger again, she quickly tried to explain herself. "I don't want to use it for some diabolical plan or anything like that. I swear!"
"Then, why do you wish to continue my work? The Reservoir Stone is not a light matter to be toyed with."
Words gushed from Hermione's mouth as the young witch desperately plead her case. "Yes, I completely agree, but you see, there is a really evil Dark Lord, that is gaining power in my world, the real world, and we have no way to stop him. Harry, my friend, is supposed to fight him because of some prophecy, but he has no idea how he's supposed to accomplish that and quite frankly, neither do I. Then I started having dreams about you and your research and Headmaster Dumbledore said if I followed my gut on it, then I might find out how we can defeat Voldemort. I think he was talking about your Reservoir Stone and if you give me the opportunity to study your work, I promise I will destroy anything created from it immediately after Voldemort is dealt with! Please, will you allow me to study your research?" Slightly winded, Hermione finally stopped to hear Fera's answer.
"What progress can a girl, who has yet to even graduate, make where I have failed?"
"You didn't fail. You had to stop your research because of your father. You just never had the chance to go back to it later. As for what I can do? I can try," Hermione replied stubbornly.
The room was silent as the two witches observed each other, until, finally, Fera nodded. "Very well. You will assist me in escaping this prison, and in return you may use my research."
Hermione sagged in relief. "Thank you."
Fera studied her, tilting her head to the side. "What is your name, girl?"
Surprised, Hermione stuck out her hand, answering immediately. "Hermione Jean Granger."
Fera shook her hand, giving her a wicked smirk. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Hermione Jean Granger. You may call me Fera."
A/N: And THAT was Fera and her research, hoped you enjoyed the introduction.
Next chapter: The Soul Book's world is explored some more, Hermione begins her journey into Fera's research, and has Fera solved the problem of leaving?
Hoped you like it and don't forget to review-its great motivation :)