The Village

With the help of Billy Black, Jacob's father, Hermione found the nearest wizarding town. The tiny town of Elwha was the Godric's Hollow of Washington. There were mixed inhabitants of the town - some muggle, many Native American, the others magical - and the gateway to their wizarding town called Ehwaz.

All they had to do was drive down Wapiti Way to the end. At the side of the road was a sign that read End of the Road, unless you were magical, of course. Witches and wizards read Welcome to Ehwaz. The sign had a white prancing horse on its left and a runic symbol engraved in the bottom right corner.

Along with her friendship with Alice and Jasper, Hermione was becoming fast friends with Esme. Emmett's perpetual adolescence reminded the witch of the Weasley twins a bit too much for her comfort, even if he was a nice enough 'boy'. Rosalie was still quite guarded around the witch. Carlisle simply found Hermione fascinating and the two talked medicine and magic theory for hours, but that was about the extent of their friendship.

Hermione and Esme took a break from training while the kids were in school and made their way over to the wizarding town of Ehwaz. The witch wanted to see if there were any books available that could help with specific spells or wards. She also intended to make as many potions as humanly possible because a week wasn't much time.

The woman was beside herself with excitement and practically leaped from the vehicle when Esme parked. Standing beside the car Hermione inhaled and let the magic of the area wash over her. "Can you feel it?"

Esme was uneasy as she made her way around the car to stand beside Hermione, "It feels… alive."

"Magic is everywhere, Esme. It's in everything. Magic is life." Hermione smiled at her friend warmly, "The best part about being here is we don't have to hide who we are."

The vampire nodded - still quite wary - and slipped her arm into Hermione's as they walked towards the shops. "Why a horse?"

"Hmm?" Hermione looked at Esme in confusion, "What about a horse?"

"The sign," Esme pointed, "they all have something to do with horses."

"That probably has something to do with the name of the town," Hermione explained and elaborated when Esme blinked her confusion. "Ehwaz is the Proto-Germanic word for horse. It's also a magical rune meaning partnership," the witch pointed at the odd looking M, "and part of the Futhark alphabet."

"You're like a walking reference library, Hermione."

"Sorry. I've been called an insufferable know-it-all most of my life." Hermione grimaced, "I don't mean to spout off facts that way; it's such an ingrained habit."

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Esme cooed, "I find it rather endearing."

Hermione laughed as she guided her friend towards the apothecary, "You're probably the only one who does."

The streets weren't overly crowded. It was nothing like Hogsmeade on a Hogwarts Saturday. The two women strolled along the path, arm in arm, laughing and pointing out stores they wanted to visit, but they both agreed that the bookstore had to be last or they'd get nothing else accomplished.

Esme held the door to the apothecary open as the two women entered the store. Hermione scooped up a basket and began walking through the aisles commenting on how fresh the ingredients were. The witch remarked, "Wiggentree bark is very reasonable here."

"That's because the wiggentree is common here," the witch behind the counter stated.

Hermione smiled at the woman, "Explains why it is so pricey in London."

"So it is you," The young woman gushed, "You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"

The witch in question sighed softly and nodded, "Yes."

"Sorry, it's just…" The woman came around the counter and was near tears, "My name is Heather. I was in school about the same time you were - in Salem, not Hogwarts - and we kept up with the news about what was going on over there. Our government offered help, but your ministry…"

"Was taken over by Death Eaters," Hermione nodded. "I never knew anyone else was even aware of what we were going through."

"How could we not? Even the Mundane knew something was wrong with the bridges collapsing and all the unusual weather courtesy of the dementors."

Esme piped in, "I remember reading about the falling bridges. We thought it as a joke at first. London Bridges are falling down… who wouldn't think it an April Fool's prank?"

Hermione felt a bit overwhelmed, "I never knew."

"You're a bit of a celebrity here in the US," Heather said and winced when Hermione groaned, "Sorry, but I can't believe you're here in Ehwaz!"

Esme bit back a laugh at the horrified look on her friend's face. Hermione tried to wave off the enthusiastic witch, "I'm nobody! It was all Harry-"

"You're not 'nobody', Miss Granger. You're a hero." Heather waved off Hermione's attempt to deflect. "I know what you're saying and to a point, perhaps you're right, but you were there. You fought for what you believed in. You stood by Harry Potter's side and you helped. Not many people can say that. Many little witches look up to you. I know I do. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I do want to say thank you. So thank you."

"I…" Hermione sighed softly and nodded, "You're welcome."

"Okay, awkward moment over," Heather beamed at Hermione, "I take it you want to do some brewing. What can I help you with?"

"I'll be making healing potions, salves and blood replenishing potions. I don't have time to make the skele-gro; do you perchance have any in stock?"

"I do actually," Heather motioned for the women to follow her and the next hour was spent picking out ingredients and making their purchase.

Every store they went into that day, someone had something to say about Hermione and what a wonderful person she was. If the witch wasn't so determined to make all her purchases that day, she would have left after the second store.

Esme found the entire event rather amusing and was quite curious. It wasn't until they made it to the bookstore that she got her unasked questions answered. Hermione was doing her best to hide in the bookstore aisles and the pair ducked into the magical history area. Believing she was safe, Hermione sighed softly and leaned against a bookshelf only to hear Esme gasp and snatch a book off the rack. "You were so cute!"

"What?" Hermione spun around to see the row of books, all displaying a photograph from her fourth year that had been taken of her and Harry during the Triwizard Tournament. "I hate that picture!" Hermione took one of the books down and was skimming through it, "What is this?"

"If I buy one, will you autograph it for me?" Esme asked.

"Don't be absurd. I didn't authorize this!"

"That's why it is called the biography of a Muggleborn, not the autobiography of Hermione Granger." Esme noted, "And I thought you were a genius."

"That's not funny, Esme. This book is utter rubbish!" Hermione groaned, "I never dated Harry Potter. He's my best friend. He's like a brother to me. Still is actually. He's quite happily married to his first love, Ginny."

"There's a few pages in the center that… they move. I never realized… this is fascinating!"

"I didn't go to Oxford, I went to Cambridge. Honestly!"

"Have you ever thought to write your autobiography?" Esme asked as she looked through the pages, "It may dispel some of the rumors that this one seems to be full of."

"I haven't the time." Hermione shoved the book back into place and went to grab Esme's, but the vampire was much too fast for her and dodged her reach. "Esme!"

"I'm curious about my daughter's cousin. I think I need to purchase a few books." Esme began searching the shelves for anything about recent magical history in England and was pleasantly surprised to find a fair few.

Seven to be exact:

1. Modern Magical History of the Twentieth Century;
2. Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, the New Edition;
3. The Golden Trio Adventures: Harry Potter and Friends;
4. The Fall of Lord Voldemort;
5. The Official Unofficial Life of Harry Potter;
6. Ronald Weasley, the Great Strategist; and
7. Hermione Granger, the Biography of a Muggleborn Warrior Princess

Hermione gave in and left Esme sifting through her new found treasure trove of all things Hermione and searched for reference books. She had been lost in the volumes for less than an hour before Esme finally invaded her sanctuary.

"I think we need to go." Esme said softly, "Now."

The witch blinked to help focus her eyes on something other than small print and frowned, "What's wrong?"

Esme nodded towards the front of the store, "I believe word has gotten out that you're in the village."

Hermione grimaced and peeked around a display only to move away again swiftly, "Where did they all come from?"

"I don't know. I noticed the volume in the place was steadily rising and finally had to go look." Esme held up a finger and said, "What here."

The witch reached out for her friend, but it was too late. Esme had left her and was making her way to the front of the bookshop to find a store employee. Hermione hid behind books as she watched the vampire gesture a few discrete times and the two nodded in understanding.

Esme made her way back to Hermione and the witch breathed a sigh of relief once they were together again. Hermione glanced at the growing crowd before whispering, "What did she say?"

"The owner is very sympathetic and agreed to help you sneak out the back of the store. Naturally she'd rather you met the crowds, but wouldn't dream of asking you. I'm sure if you were to let it leak out that you shopped here she'd be thrilled. You're a celebrity so it's good for business to have you here."

"Miss Granger?" The soft voice asked. Hermione whipped around, wand in hand, to find the woman that Esme was speaking to earlier standing with her hands up in a 'surrender' fashion, "Sorry. I should know better than to startle a war veteran. I'm Crystal Ellis, this is my store." Hermione lowered her wand as Crystal continued, "I can take you out through the storage room. Did you have any purchases you wanted to make before we head out?"

"Yes, several actually…" Hermione sighed softly, "I'm sorry about this." She waved her hand vaguely around as if gesturing towards the entire store. "I've never had to deal with this sort of thing before. They always wanted to meet Harry, not me."

"It's no problem, really. Come with me," Crystal motioned for the two to follow her. They quickly made their way into the back storage area where the owner of the book store notated which books Hermione was buying. When she got to Esme's book she laughed and held up the two biographies. "Will you be burning these as an offering to our hero? I can't imagine many of the facts are correct."

"No!" Esme took the books reverently and shooed Hermione away, "She may want to burn them, but I believe they'll make for some enjoyable reading."

Hermione groaned and cursed colorfully under her breath which caused Esme to laugh. The witch wrinkled her nose at her friend, "Oh bugger, the whole family is going to know about this, aren't they? I don't know how, I don't know when, but I'll get back at you for this."

"Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

"You have neither the magic required to make potions nor the patience."

"I don't need patience to cut up those… well, not the slimy things, but the roots or crush the needles. I can do that kind of thing can't I?"

"Can you make your cuts precise, the pieces uniform in shape and size?"

"Of course I can."

"You didn't sound too assured. Can you crush the needles into a fine powder, but not too much that it becomes dust?"

"Yes?"

"You're company is help enough. Although, I do appreciate the offer."

"So I'm not a distraction?"

"No," Hermione stopped talking as she counted her anticlockwise stirs. After seven, she removed the glass stirrer and smiled at the young shape shifter, "Providing you don't touch anything without my leave, you're not a distraction."

"Oh, good, because Embry said I am."

Seth squirmed in his seat and Hermione didn't hide her amusement. She smiled at the teen and prompted, "Ask your questions, Seth before you implode."

"So you're a witch."

"That's hardly a question. You already know that I am."

"Well sure," Seth squirmed again, but plowed ahead before he lost his nerve, "Do you have a cat? Do you wear pointy hats and ride a broom? I never hear you cackle and you don't have green skin or a wart or maybe you do and you can hide it. I mean you brew over a cauldron just like the cartoons so why not have a hunched back, hooked nose and green skin, but no that is too weird and…"

Hermione's laughter caused the boy to blush and his words to taper off, "Sorry, my potions professor had the hooked nose, but he was pale instead of green and as far as I know he had no warts." The witch lowered the heat under the first cauldron and moved to the second before beginning her prep work. "Okay let's see about some answers.

"I had a pet named Crookshanks. He was half cat, half kneazle which is a magical breed of cat. He was highly intelligent with a face only an owner could love, or so I was told. I thought he was rather lovely, but my friends found him hideous. He was orange and had a rather flat face. He died of old age a few years ago. I miss him greatly.

"Pointed hats were part of the school uniform which we were required to wear only for specific feasts. The elder generations still wear them on a daily basis. I find them unbecoming and rather ridiculous. I refused to wear one once I graduated.

"I can ride a broom, I simply prefer not to. I'm not particularly fond of heights or falling from said heights. I would much rather feel the solid ground under my feet, thank you very much. On the other hand, I do have friends that enjoy riding brooms and could talk for hours about the different flying styles and makers of brooms, flying techniques and stunts.

"As for hunched backs, green skin and hooked noses, you have described a hag, not a witch. I suppose for those who watch too much telly, that is an understandable mix up."

"Telly? What's a telly?"

"Slang for television."

Seth cocked his head in thought, "Like we say TV."

"Precisely," Hermione agreed. She moved back to her first cauldron and extinguished the heat source.

"Is it true you knew other werewolves?"

"Yes," Hermione began crushing the needles methodically with the stone mortar and pestle. "You do realize you're not a true werewolf, right?"

"What?" Seth sat up straight, "Yes we are."

"No, true werewolves only change with a full moon and it is involuntary, painful and dangerous. They have no control over the animal within them and no human can be near them during their transformation. There is a potion that allows them a modicum of control, but I digress. You're a pack of shape shifters, not 'children of the moon' as some call them."

"The legend calls us spirit warriors." Seth said distractedly.

"I'd love to hear these legends someday." Hermione looked to see what had caught his attention and noted the new arrivals.

"You've been summoned by the Elders." Embry looked almost apologetic when he spoke as if it pained him to say the words.

"You will be there Saturday morning at ten." Sam spoke assuredly as if it were a command rather than a suggestion.

Hermione scoffed, "I'm not one of your wolves, Mr. Uley. Your little alpha commands will not work on me."

Embry gave Sam a wary glance when the Alpha growled. The younger wolf tried to appease both parties and requested, "Will you please come on Saturday? They know that there's a witch in town and… well…"

"They are concerned about your intentions." Sam snarled.

The witch laughed softly at his choice of words and lowered the heat on her second cauldron. "My intentions… well let's see, I intend to enjoy my visit with my cousin. I intend to aid in the upcoming battle." She lined up a row of clean vials and began ladling the healing potion. "I intend to go home and back to my life." She ignored the soft whimper. "I also intend to do my best to be on time on Saturday because I refuse to pass up the opportunity to learn more about these fascinating legends of your people."

When the last vial was filled, she turned her attention to the wide eyed silent pup and asked, "Did you still want to help me, Seth?"

The young wolf nodded, but kept shooting glances at his Alpha. "Yes?"

"Take this empty cauldron outside, please. I need to wash it before I can start on the next batch." Hermione made shooing motions and the boy eagerly hopped off his stool and grabbed the cauldron before hightailing it outside to make his escape. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Sam, "You're a bully. You're so accustomed to getting your way with these boys that you forget your place. I'm not a vampire, so you have no reason to hate me. I'm a witch with considerable talent and you will stop trying to treat me as a subordinate or the enemy. You're frightening Seth and unnerving Embry. Just grow up, Sam Uley. The world does not revolve around you."

"How dare-"

"Silencio," she casted the spell quickly, stopping his tirade before it had a chance to begin. Sam's eyes narrowed angrily as he bared his teeth, Embry's eyes widened and he moved as if to put himself between the two. Hermione held up her hand to stop him, "You are a guest in this home. You'll not start trouble here. That would be rude. Finite."

"Saturday," Sam growled and left in a huff.

Embry let out his breath slowly and looked at her as if he had never seen her before in his entire life, regardless of the fact that they had met two days earlier. "You're not afraid of him."

It wasn't a question, but Hermione responded anyhow. She shrugged her shoulders and began labeling the vials with a name and date, "Of course not. He reminds me of my old potions professor. He was a snarky, snarling, unpleasant, greasy bully that was angry at the world, resented the position he was put in and was utterly brilliant.

"If I had to guess, Sam is an angry little boy that wants to take his toys and go home." Hermione smiled when Embry let out a barking laugh. She set aside the filled vials and moved to her second cauldron to fill the next set of vials. "I don't know him, so naturally I could be wrong. I just know his type."

"I see." Embry leaned against the counter and watched her work. "So you'll really go on Saturday to meet with the Elders?"

"Yes," Hermione set the ladle down, "for two reasons."

"Oh?"

"One: I really would like to hear these legends."

"And two?"

"You," Hermione didn't elaborate as she labeled the vials.

"Me?" Embry prompted, "Why me?"

"You didn't command or demand or whatever it is Sam tried." Hermione smiled at the young man, "I appreciate that. So my second reason is because you asked nicely."

Embry ducked his head shyly and muttered, "Thanks," then cleared his throat trying to change the subject, "so what are these?"

"Healing potions," Hermione motioned for him to grab the empty cauldron and moved towards the door, "I still need to make blood replenishing potions and if I have time bruising salves. Truthfully with the rate that your lot heal and regenerate, I may not need to make any." They joined Seth outside and she motioned the two to the outdoor spigot. "I need to scrub these clean and I can't use magic or it leaves residuals that may affect the next batch I brew."

The two boys immediately began scrubbing the cauldrons and Hermione watched in amusement. Esme was suddenly by her side and asked, "When do I get my kitchen back?"

"You can have it now, if you need it. Why?"

"I'm sure these boys are ravenous and need to be fed."

Hermione laughed at the two boys as they looked up at the vampire and nodded eagerly. "Bottomless pits, the pair of you."

Embry gave a sheepish grin, "It's the phasing; our metabolism is crazy high. We have to eat often to keep our bodies in fighting condition."

"I'd like to run some diagnostics. Would you mind?"

The two boys glanced at each other and shrugged. "Sure."

"Excellent," Hermione beamed, "When you're done with those, leave them upside down on the porch to dry. I'll go clean up the working space so Esme can have her kitchen back. Can't have you two starving on us. Gods preserve us if the Elders think we're hurting two of their pups."

Embry growled low at being called a pup, but Hermione only grinned and dragged Esme into the kitchen with her. "Stop," Hermione said as she began putting away her ingredients.

"Stop what?" Esme put on an innocent look that fooled no one.

"You've been reading again. I can see the questions in your eyes. No, it was probably not true. And if it is, I probably don't want to talk about it." Hermione sighed and cleaned her utensils. "Honestly, I left that life of adventure and insanity to go to university. I left the wars, battles and killing to become a healer." She tapped her wand on the storage box she was keeping her supplies in and everything began soaring into it, shuffling around automatically in order for everything to fit.

"So dragons don't exist?"

"Dragons?" Hermione blinked in surprise and shook her head with a soft smile. She hadn't expected that question, but was willing to answer all the same. "Yes, dragons do exist. They're quite lovely, quite deadly and the majority of the species live on dragon preserves. I'm sure there are numerous books at the store we visited that can tell you about each type. I only remember a few: Common Welsh Green, Chinese Fireball, Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Norwegian Ridgeback and Ukrainian Ironbelly."

Esme noticeably perked at the mention of the first four species, "So the Triwizard Tournament was real."

"Yes," Hermione responded hesitantly.

"Fascinating," Esme went about cooking supper for the boys, pointedly not asking more questions.

AN: I was bored. Usually when I'm bored I take it out on my husband, but he's on a plane right now so instead you folks get another chapter.

SereniteRose: You're a peach. I'm not a huge Bella fan either. I adore Hermione, though. I'm hoping to portray her as her strong brilliant self.