Chapter Forty-Six: The Norns

Draco squinted as they went from the relative darkness of the workroom onto a dry earthen path in a glen flooded with light.

Behind them, Severus sneezed. Draco shielded his eyes from the hot sun overhead – when had the Otherworld created its own sun? – and looked around.

Before, the bright Path had been little more than a glowing line of sand under them, leading to a lone signpost carved from gray rock. They were now surrounded by a thick wood. Draco could not see the glowing Path, but Harry seemed to, tracking it with his eyes to their left. The signpost no longer faced into the Dark, a pillar against the encroaching chaos. Instead, two other Paths branched out beyond it, one leading into golden fields and the other into more forest.

Severus sneezed again. "Wheat pollen," he muttered. "Bloody hell."

Draco had eyes only for Harry. The former Gryffindor had wandered a few steps from them, hands spread out as if he were blind. "Harry?"

"It doesn't hurt. Tickles a bit, actually."

Draco frowned. "What do you mean?"

Harry turned and Draco forgot to breathe. The other boy's eyes were full of stars. "I can see them, the strands, but it's so much easier here. It doesn't hurt at all!"

Draco swallowed and felt Severus' hand settle onto his shoulder. A soft squeeze and the man moved forward, glancing each way down the paths. Draco cleared his throat and joined Harry at his side.

"Which way, Mr. Potter?"

"Sir?"

Severus flicked his wrist. "The both of you had some plan, I assume. Where are we going?"

"To Gwenn's," Draco said, hoping the mother goddess would welcome them. "It's the best place to start."

qpqp

Harry all but bounced down the Path, kicking dust up in his exuberance. He hadn't felt so good in ages. Nothing hurt, the lights weren't too bright, the sounds weren't too loud, it was wonderful. Draco still seemed a bit tense and Snape was sneezing every five minutes, but Harry could not seem to share their anxiety. Nothing hurt. It felt so good to realize just how much pain he had been in for so long and now that it was gone…

He tripped and would have ended up sprawled out on the ground if Draco had not checked his fall. He managed a wavering smile at the other boy, heart beating fast in his throat.

I'll have to go back to it, he thought, staring at Draco. No way could I leave Draco there alone.

The realization dimmed his excitement. Draco frowned at him, but Harry shook his head and looked away before the blond could read the flash of despair in his eyes. He knew it would be there. He was pants at hiding anything from the other boy.

I can bear it, he took a breath and reached for Draco's hand. All things have a price. Pain is one way to pay for my happiness, then so be it.

Draco gave him a funny look, but linked their fingers together. Snape sneezed again and began to mutter dire threats against all wheat fields in the vicinity.

Smiling, Harry walked into the small village that housed Gwenn and felt his feet stumble to a stop in shock.

"Merlin," Draco breathed. "What's happened here?"

The sleepy village had been on the verge of awareness, the last time they had been there. The tiny cottages, bigger on the inside than out, had dotted the wandering lane, stout chimneys peeking out through moss covered thatch roofs. A few of the chimneys besides Gwenn's had had lonely plumes of smoke spiraling into the overcast skies.

The view in front of them was much different now.

Half of the village seemed distorted, as though some sort of thick glass had come down in front of it, murky and poorly cast. The wandering road was split, the clear part cut in half and the blurry part a step over to the left, as though the veil did more than just blur the view, but it distorted it as well.

Draco dropped Harry's hand as they moved forward. Harry gripped his wand tight, feeling the handle press into the soft skin of his palm.

"I see her cottage," Draco pointed. "It's still in view."

No smoke rose from the chimney. The door was closed and the curtains drawn. Harry approached the door, chewing on his lower lip, fist hesitating as he moved to knock.

The door was wrenched open before he could touch knuckles to wood. "You foolish mortals," Gwenn latched onto Harry and pulled him inside. Draco and Severus were quick to join them.

Merle was a mass of shuddering twigs near the fire. Gwenn marched over to the windows and twitched back one side, peering out. "I don't think you've been seen," she said.

"What is going on?" Harry asked.

"Are you blind, Dreamer?" She set her hands on her hips and nodded to the distortion. "A time keeper has…died…" She peered at Harry and let her hands slide free. "Oh, Danu, child," she groped for a chair. "What's happened to you now?"

Harry looked down his front, frowning. "You…what do you see? I don't feel bad, not like before…"

"Dreamer," Gwenn sighed. Merle's head came up with a sharp rustle. "It's your eyes."

"…Oh." Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets and scuffed a toe of his shoe against the floor. "It's a bit of a story and we need your help. Do you mind?"

Gwenn's chin came up. "For all that you have done for us, Dreamer, ask what you may. I will help you as much as I can."

qpqpqpqp

"So," Sasha stared at Hermione. "Time."

Hermione stared back. "Yes."

"It's more than clocks."

"Don't you know anything?"

"I'm a witch, you bloody cow. Magic solves many things and time is just…" She shrugged. "So how is it important?"

Hermione glared at her before burying her head in her hands. "This is hopeless."

"It better not be," Sasha snapped back. "I plan on having a nice long future, thank you very much."

Hermione heaved a sigh and pulled her hands away from her face. "Right, let's start from the beginning then…"

Hours later had most of the pureblooded Slytherin contingent with pounding headaches and piles of notes.

"This is worse than arithmancy," Sasha rubbed at her temples. "At least arithmancy makes sense."

"To you," Hermione retorted. It wasn't the first time the topic had come up. "To muggleborns and all muggle mathematicians, this makes sense instead."

"No wonder they're all touched in the head."

Hermione gave them all a look and continued. "I've already written and asked for more detailed studies –"

"You mean it gets worse?"

"But until then, we'll have to focus on something else," Hermione plowed on.

Sasha rested her head in her hands. "Right, let's think this though, then. If time is a – an equation, an actual, er, entity, or something, then that means it can be manipulated, right?"

Hermione pursed her lips, but nodded.

"So, if we figure that if things like time turners only manipulate time and not reality-"

"But time and reality are interrelated," Hermione countered. "The trick with time turners is the built in failsafe to prevent paradoxes."

Sasha covered her eyes with a hand. "But what if to prevent a paradox you have to create a paradox?"

She saw Hermione's shoulders slump through the gap in her fingers. "Bloody sodding hell."

"And it's not just us," Sasha dug her fingers into her scalp. "I mean, the whole world is going to be affected, right? How do we keep one part safe if we can't…" She blinked, eyes flicking back and forth as an idea came to her.

"What?" Hermione sat up in her seat.

"You've been to the Ministry to get a time turner, right?" Sasha asked. Hermione nodded. "About how many do you think they have, all total?"

Glee lit Hermione's eyes.

qpqpqpqp

Loki kicked his legs, his heels drumming against the worn bark of the ancient ash tree.

It rose into the sky, greater than the earth, holding up three worlds, thirty, a thousand and more. The spine of belief, etched into the memory of a stubborn people, who allowed the new One God into their lives, but kept the old gods in the rafters, just in case.

Yggdrasil was the world, but the world was also the ash tree – standing out, away from reality and yet its bark was part of the weft and weave that held it together.

Loki felt unsettled and he never liked it when he felt unsettled. Feeling unsettled often meant Odin was plotting with the Norns, planning new ways for Loki to do the older god's dirty work. Balder's death wasn't his fault – he'd loved the man dearly, Balder was his cousin, for ashes and flame! But that Odin…Balder was the beloved god, so young, so ready to take over Valhalla and all his father's duties…no, Odin couldn't have that, the blind old coot. So Loki had been unsettled, blanked out and came to with his children's intestines chaining him to a rock as he waited out his punishment.

Loki was still bitter about that whole ordeal. His poor wife had locked herself away, weeping, refusing to see him until the Ragnarok. Then he'd really have to watch his ass.

He had been unsettled for little more than a mortal day – he guessed. Yggdrasil's leaves rustled on the passing hours, but the whole tree was reacting oddly, sometimes shivering under the heat of his palms in a way that he had never seen before.

Something was definitely happening.

He drew one leg up to his chest and rested his cheek against his knee. He did not want Ragnarok to come about – he was quite comfortable with the way humanity had chosen to evolve and he himself had just woken up from the feverish dream state he and many of the other gods had existed in for centuries. The mortals had created such fascinating new things, so many gadgets that could break and go wrong…But that was not all he was. He was also the file miraculously brought back from a fried hard drive, the car that skidded to a stop inches before impacting a toddler – Loki liked this new human world. He was in no rush to destroy it quite yet. Odin could bloody well wait.

Still, there was no rhyme or reason for many of the All Father's actions, so when his skin had crawled with the itch of something Happening, Loki had hurried to the great Ash Tree to keep an eye on all the worlds and his various relations.

He had picked a place in the branches, away from the irritating deer and its desire to nibble on everything, alive, human, godly or not. He could see the mythic wells at the roots of the great tree, but not any of the Norns. They had retired to their small cottage built into the bark of the great tree, the fragrant scent of smoking meat wafting from their chimney.

He should have tried finding take-out and seeing if it survived the transition to this Other Place.

The itching of his skin grew to a fevered pitch. He was shifting on his seat as though he had been rolling in poison ivy for hours. Something was going to Happen, he would catch the old man in the act, or see Freyja with a skin mask or Thor sober for once or –

Shadows arriving at the base of Yggdrasil, the thick, decaying scent of blood flooding the ether. Loki arched, caught against the bark of the old ash tree as it screamed, his eyes were kept open, wide and clear, as the figures fired spell after spell at the house of the Norns, causing them to run out screaming. He was forced to watch as they fell, blood, bones and guts ripped from their skin as the shadow figures laughed and laughed.

The second pillar fell and Loki with it, breathless and sobbing for no reason he could name.

qpqpqpqp

"So, who's Colin?" Sasha leaned up against the door to the Owlery, Seamus at her side. Hermione shot them a cross look, but turned back to the owls, letter in hand.

"He's a friend," she said.

"A friend," Seamus raised his eyebrows, while Sasha covered a laugh. "What kind of friend is he, then?"

"An older friend."

"Ohh, older man."

"Seamus!"

The boy grinned back at a flushing Hermione. "You've been distant all year and now we know why. An older, male friend that I bet your Mum and Da have no idea about has taken your fancy, hasn't he?"

Hermione's blush grew deeper. "It's none of your business! He's a friend. He – he helped me and introduced me to some – some friends!"

"Ah," Sasha nodded, unable to keep her grin off her face. "The exiles. And, like S.P.E.W, you couldn't help but get involved."

"They were exiled for no good reason!"

Sasha raised an eyebrow.

"They were!"

"They broke the law, Hermione."

'"No more than I have," the muggleborn witch huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"That might not be something you want to say too loud," Seamus cautioned.

"All they wanted was to talk to muggles," Hermione snapped.

"It's a bit more than that," Sasha said.

"Like you would know."

"I do know," Sasha snapped at the girl. "Exiles have always wanted more than just to talk with the muggles. They want interaction, trade, exposure. It's dangerous, or at least it was."

"Dangerous, how? Think of all the discoveries we could have made together…"

"Muggles are scared, Hermione. They've never liked things they could not understand and since the One God took control of their religion, it got worse. We were a plural society once, more than two thousand years ago. Care to guess what changed?"

"You can't blame this on religion too!"

"No, I'm not. I'm blaming it on the fools that created the crap after the event took place."

Seamus shifted at her side. "Here, now…"

"Oh, don't fuss, Seamus," she flipped her hair over her shoulder with a scowl. "The Roman Catholic Church is one of the most plural churches left, not that they realize it. The veneration of the saints is close enough to deific worship that I'm surprised more people don't see the connection."

Seamus snorted a laugh and shook his head.

"No," Sasha continued, staring at Hermione. "No, what the exiles wanted was the possible destruction of the entire wizarding world, via exposure. History has taught us that people kill what they fear, and if they're lucky, they'll stop before what they fear is wiped out. They weren't always that lucky."

"So you think they deserved it? We've magic, Sasha. The wizarding world could defend itself!"

"Against machine guns?" Sasha fired back. "Against poison gas, against rockets, against nuclear bombs?"

Hermione frowned. "How do you know about all that?"

"I'm a pureblood, Hermione. One of the reasons Voldemort got so many followers the first time around is because he filled everyone's ears about the horrors of muggle warfare – and what they would be capable of doing to us if we did not strike first."

"That's ridiculous!"

"What, did you think he got so many followers by being the insane fruit cake we faced the second time around? Merlin, Hermione, are you that stupid?"

"Hey!"

"It doesn't matter now, anyway," Sasha huffed a sigh and looked away. "The muggles are ready to blow up the world as it is."

"Then…you agree?" Hermione frowned.

"I think the world should have had a slower introduction to magic than it had," Sasha shrugged. "I was going to a special university after my NEWTs. It would have been grand."

"You didn't tell me about that," Seamus touched her arm.

"Didn't know how."

"And now?"

"Well, if we fend off the end of the world – again – we'll see," Sasha gave him a faint smile. "I have no idea if the university will still exist after all of this."

"We have to have hope," Seamus wound an arm around her waist.

"Oh, I've hope, it's just the cynicism that gets in the way a bit."

Even Hermione laughed at that – then yelped as the world rocked around them. Seamus pushed Sasha against the doorframe and tried to cover her body with is. Sasha's knees felt weak and her stomach flipped a few times, ready to empty itself. Hermione lost the fight, falling to the filthy ground of the Owlery and vomiting.

The moment seemed to stretch forever, and then it was gone, leaving them shaken and pale. They could hear the alarms beginning to sound all over the school. Sasha met Hermione's eyes with a wide stare of her own.

"Think you can write Colin and see if he can hurry up a plan?" She asked.

"Grand idea," Hermione croaked. "Got a quill?"

End Chapter Forty-Six